


To Breathe Above Water

by Emiza



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Mermaid, Black Markets, F/M, Fake Character Death, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Intimacy, Kissing, Light Angst, Mythology - Freeform, Non-Graphic Violence, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiza/pseuds/Emiza
Summary: Mermaids have been hunted for centuries, for their beauty and scales, pushing them to the brink of extinction, forcing them to hide in the ocean’s depths and darkness. They teach their young to be careful, to never swim into open waters.But all it takes is a single mistake, a single net, and a single bid on the black market for a mermaid’s life to turn upside down.And Angela was fairly good at making mistakes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this one-shot for quite some time now, and decided to post it during the gency week for day 6 – Kiss! It's written in the same style as my first gency fic "Children of the Old Gods" :)  
> You can find the rest of my fics/drabbles for the week [here on my tumblr](http://emiza.tumblr.com/tagged/Gencyweek1)!
> 
> Great thanks and many hugs to Zee and Shinsetsuna for helping me with ideas and for helping me continue this fic after my plan ran out halfway through! And many thanks to my lovely friend LadyCarathis for reading through the finished thing <3
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The ocean is a restless place. It will let you know if you are not welcome, for it shows only mercy to its own children.

For millennia, long before the age of man, it kept secrets in its depths, hidden from view and reach. In that depth, creatures thrived and grew strong for centuries and ages. But the water grew colder, ice spreading far in the north and south. Lives flickered out like candles, entire species of fish and mammal dead within years, and so the creatures adapted to avoid the same end, grew smaller with sharp teeth and claws. They were hidden for so long, had not been hunted since the great megalodons had roamed the oceans undisturbed, and they soon forgot what fear felt like.

The first mermaid to ever be seen by a human had approached out of curiosity. And the mermaid had helped the stunned sailors, who had just learned how to step onto the surface of the ocean and not fall down, but they had gotten lost in their wandering, had drifted too far away from shore. So the mermaid helped, not knowing how her single action doomed an entire race.

“It is unusual”, the merpeople thought, as more and more humans set sail upon their roof, and as more and more humans got lost to the unchartered waves.

“They are like cubs,” the mermen huffed, as ship after ship sailed upon their territory, splitting the surface and sending ripples through the water that stirred their young from sleep.

“We will protect our own,” the mermaids spoke as they sent ships on the right course through songs and gentle hands, stealing curious glances of the awestruck sailors, marveling in the attention they got.

The sight of an unnatural beauty, hidden in depths humans had just begun to explore the surface of, was not something that would be forgotten easily. The sailors brought their stories back to land, mixed them with other stories of similar kind, and soon, tales started to spread across the lands, about the mermaids’ deadly beauty, of their songs mesmerizing enough to kill, of their warm smiles and gentle voices as they pulled you under if you weren’t careful enough.

They were a wonder of their own. Jewels of the ocean, rare and beautiful.

And humans, who were born with greed in their veins, could not simply watch the beauty from afar.

 

*

 

At first, the hunting was frowned upon. When the sailors brought back the first mermaid, tied up in her fin like a rare specimen of fish, there were whispers and rumors. Men and women alike traveled across the land for just a chance to catch a glimpse of this rare creature.

The first mermaid to ever be captured died a slow, agonizing death after her song had sent a crowd into the depths of the ocean, reminding the humans of the ocean’s beautiful cruelty.

The second mermaid to ever be captured lived for no more than three days, gasping for water as she was put on display in the gazing sun that cracked her skin like a broken porcelain doll and made her bleed, as she silently wished she had never approached that one ship.

The third mermaid to ever be captured took her own life before the ship could reach the shore, for she had heard the tales of her sisters, and she did not desire to meet an end like them.

There were many more after that, with names long forgotten, too many to remember. The frowns of the hunting turned softer until there were no frowns at all, and it became an enjoyment. A sport for the rich, to test ones skill on both a ship and in capturing. Sometimes, even killing, where fins and scales became symbols of courage and trophies of the worthy.

New ships were built, to ensure speed and yet still large enough to hold tanks full of water, to hold mermaids until there were no space left for them to move, to breathe. And the humans adapted to the deadly song, carrying cotton to plug their ears, building their tanks thicker to swallow all sound.

Few survived the hunting, and those who did survive were sold on markets amongst ivory and exotic pelts, and who knew what happened to them after that.

There were rumors amongst the mermaid colonies, the ones who were still alive and trembling out of fear for _their turn_ , about their kind being put on display, about experiments and torture. And when the young had gone to restless sleep, there were hushed whispers of humans who preferred mermaid meat over fish.

 

*

 

The merpeople adapted to the new threat, they grew vary, careful. Did no longer trust strangers, even of their own kind.

They drew away from the surface. And the humans created nets to catch them.

They hid in caves amongst sand and shells. And the humans came for them with spears in hands and laughter on their lips.

They swam to the bottom of the ocean, so dark and so deep that no human could possibly follow. And the humans caught every living soul not deep enough, and they never knew of the ones who had sacrificed their light for life.

 

*

 

They grew fewer in numbers, until there were not enough left to uphold a sport. Humans started searching for them, more intensely than before, desperate to find any sign of sparkling scales underneath the surface.

Soon, they were considered an endangered species. Organizations were created in hopes to save them, the creatures that were hidden for decades before one of them would grow foolish enough to swim too close to the surface.

New laws were put in place, the ban of all fishing and hunting of the merpeople. A crime punishable by years in prison, or simply a smaller fine with the right contacts.

It was supposed to help them. Instead, they just became more desirable, more exotic, the one thing that declared your status amongst your friends. Because if you were rich enough, the laws did not apply, the organizations unable to touch you. And the rich always got what they wanted.

Mermaids, always mermaids with their brighter scales and softer shape, sold for millions and millions on the market that was hidden from view and authorities. They were once again put on display, but this time in expensive homes in large tanks that didn’t allow them to hide, treated like a pet fish, just a little deadlier.

And there were no laws that protected them there.

 

*

 

Angela had grown up with these stories. She had whispered them herself to her siblings when they had refused to sleep until they heard the gruesome tales that seemed like legends to their ears.

Sometimes, they were brought messages of mermaids who had been stolen and of mermen who had been killed, but those were few and far between, and Angela paid them little to no mind. After all, she was safe with her colony, small in size but unique in their own way, and she had no reason to believe that she too would be stolen or killed.

Those things only happened to others.

Few and far between.

 

*

 

There were three things every member of the small Ziegler colony learned from when they were young, repeated so many times they all knew the words by heart. Repeated so they could never be forgotten.

One, never leave the cave alone, for it brings protection from humans and predators alike.

Two, when out on a hunt, never stay for too long and never stray too far, for your safety is more important than food that evening.

Three, never swim into open water.

 

*

 

Angela had always loved the surface.

It was something about the way the sun played on the water, sinking deep into the ocean as if it tried to reach for her, warming her skin when she crossed the sunlight. It was a forbidden beauty, for she knew she could never swim up to the surface, knew she could never touch the sunlight before it filtered down.

She sometimes told herself that if no one saw her, she wouldn’t be punished, and if no one saw her she could touch the sunlight herself. After all, sunlight was a rare sight to behold for her colony, hidden deep into caves with thousands of different ways in and out, and if one wasn’t careful enough, it was far too easy to get lost and never to be found again. And once out of those caves and tunnels, so complicated the humans would never find them, the world had already grown dark with glimmering stars far up above.

Living in darkness your whole life did things to you, she knew. It turns your mind as cloudy and slow as the still water, it will pale your skin until you become one with the sand on the ocean floor. And if you stayed for too long, never having seen a drop of sunlight, the darkness would steal your vision and turn you into something lesser than a fish.

She had heard stories of humans. And she had heard stories of the merpeople who had retreated to depths untraveled by most, whose skin had turn pale and vision stolen, whose teeth grew long and sharp with too little room in a mouth, born and living in a darkness where the only light is the one strapped on their skin, luring in other creatures who had just wished for a chance to see the sunlight.

Light kept you sane.

It was warm and tickled her skin, cast shadows and brought out colors she didn’t knew she had within her scales, and she rolled around in it, allowing herself just a moment of enjoyment in her temporary freedom. Still, she couldn’t help but think of the humiliation if someone saw her, dancing with the forbidden light with a smile upon her lips, having forgotten the dangers of the ocean.

Having forgotten fear itself.

But she knew her duties, remembered them well, and her moment in the sun was only _just a moment._ If she was away for too long, her family would notice, and they would go looking for her and they would make her explain herself in front of the colony, explain why she had broken one of their rules. And then she would never be allowed to leave their caves ever again.

With one last look back, she swam out of the sunlight and back into the shadows.

 

*

 

She had been entrusted with hunting for that evening, for it was a very special day that required celebration. Her colony had stayed back to decorate the caves, with bright shells and old scales of their ancestors, and the regular hunters had set out earlier that morning to receive their guests.

“It is tradition,” she had been told, that the oldest child was the one to hunt for food on occasions like this. Occasions where another colony visited, with hopes of combining their families together and with hopes of marriage and with hopes of young to carry their blood and shining scales through history.

“Bring back the largest fish you can find,” she had been told, so that the other colony could see her skill and decide that she was not only beautiful enough to suffice. She had heard of times long ago, when occasions like this were celebrated in dance and great feasts instead of a simple hunting, where scales turned into liquid movements in light from the sun and moon alike.

But times had changed since then, and they no longer required dancing and great feasts. Those things couldn’t guarantee survival. Good hunting skill could, and although Angela had never hunted alone, she knew enough to be a formable partner to any merman, or mermaid, that would offer their hand to her.

That was why, when she saw a great fat fish that could feed her small colony alone, she didn’t hesitate.

The water parted way for her so easily, had known her since she was so small she had to cling on her mother’s back to not drift away. It was her home and her second mother. But the fish was born of the ocean as well, and the water parted just as easily for it as it did for Angela.

And Angela never turned down a good chase.

She was fast, but the fish was faster, keeping just out of her reach and her claws, twisting and turning like silver and more slippery than an eel. And the mermaid chased after it, determination burning in her eyes, her surroundings forgotten as the fish drew her further and further away from the caves and her home.

She had forgotten fear.

And she so easily forgot the most important rule of them all.

_Never swim into open water._

 

*

 

The first sign that something was wrong, was that the fish’s movements became irregular, frantic, _panicked_. Angela caught it easily, even though it had been so hard to capture it before, and it slapped her with its great fin, tearing itself away once again before swimming towards a great school of similar fish.

The second sign that something was _wrong_ , was that she no longer could see the bottom of the ocean. There were no sand in sight, no rocks and no caves with hundredths of tunnels and opening that one could so easily get lost in. There was only darkness.

The third sign that something was very, _very wrong_ , was how the school of fish moved. As if they were all hunted, drawing strength from their own numbers, making it harder to catch a single one of them.

A shark?

Angela looked around, saw no approaching shadow, nothing large enough to be a shark or a whale or anything of the like. Yet, the fish became more and more restless, and _she_ wasn’t the cause of it.  

She should return home, that was the logical thing to do. But when she looked back from where she came from, there was nothing but Open Ocean, a vast emptiness.

She didn’t know the way back.

But there was something dangerous in the air, she could taste the fishes panic on her tongue, salt and frantic.

And above, something sent ripples on the surface.

With a heart beating too fast in her chest, she made a quick decision. There was strength in numbers, and so she hid amongst the fish, the animals too scared to care about the lone mermaid amongst them. Their scales scratched her arms and cheeks, turning her skin an angry red, and she forced herself to breathe, telling herself that she was safe, nothing could harm her there, and she needed to wait out the danger in safety before trying to get back home.

She hadn’t been taught about this. She had learned how to _avoid_ this, to stay close to home and never go alone and _never swim into open water_. And now she had to pay for her forgetfulness.

 

*

 

There was a stillness in the water, the feeling of something looming above her.

The fish drew closer to her, their panic becoming her own, silent and chilling to the bone.

And she realized, as something heavy broke the surface above, that perhaps she wasn’t safe with the fish after all.

All at once, the world turned into chaos. The fish tried to get away, swam to the right and to the left and down and _down_ , pulling Angela in every direction at once, hindering her from getting anywhere at all.

She didn’t see the net before it was too late. It swallowed her up, ropes biting into her skin, pressing fish against her and allowing no escape. There was a scream stuck in her throat, a silent plea for help, for anyone or _anything_ to come and rescue her.

But this was her punishment for seeking a freedom she’d already had.

The world tilted around, and she was brought up and _up_ , the water rushing against her, stealing the scream from her lips, until there were no water at all.

 _Air_.

It felt strange in her throat as she gasped, too raw and too dry, and it _burned_. Beneath her, the ocean grew further and further away, and she could feel the warmth of the sun upon her skin, unfiltered and pure. Water fell from her skin in droplets, and she reached for them, tried to grasp them through the net, as if she could reach back to the ocean once again.

This was not what she had wanted.

The net came to a stop, a shake and a shift, and she forced air into her burning lungs while the fish pressed against her, unable to breathe without water. Up in the air, she could see the ocean, vast and empty. And for the first time, _taunting_.

“Well shit, look at this!”

Before Angela could react, to voices too strange with a language rough and rasping their throats, the world tilted once again. This time, she landed. Wood bit into her skin in ways scales never could, the fish pooling out around her, through the hole of the cut net.

Something dark filled her vision, dark and dully shining with the reflection of the sun, in so many different ways than her scales did. And the thing moved, slightly to the side, revealing an identical pair.

Slowly, Angela looked up, followed the strange material to something that _wasn’t a fin_ , and higher to hips and a waist and a broad chest and a large grin upon dry lips. Danger lurking in unfamiliar eyes.

Humans.

“What a pretty thing,” the human spoke again, kneeling down in front of Angela, reeking of salt and dead fish and a strange scent that must be completely _human_.

There was a whistle to the right, another strange sound and not as graceful as the whistles of the dolphins that sometimes passed over the caves. Another human came into view, and another, and another, and Angela was surrounded. She shrank back, scrambling on the wood amongst flopping and dying fish, trying to get away, and there was _laughter_ around her as the humans put something in their ears.

She was missing something, _she knew she was missing something_ , something important to do if she would ever came across a human.

What had her sisters done before her? The ones who had been captured and whose names had been long forgotten?

They had died.

That’s what they had done.

“The first mermaid in 10 years!”

“Look at her fin! It looks like gold!”

“Think we gonna get a lot of money for her?”

More laughter, pats on their backs, their shadows covering her burning skin from the sun and she tried to shrink into herself, tried to disappear even though she knew she couldn’t.

“Lads,” the first man spoke up, the rest falling quiet at his rough voice that cut in Angela’s ears. “We’re gonna be _rich_.”

Ear deafening cheers, too _raw_ with no water to hold it back, and then hands were grabbing her arms, nails biting into her skin, and the scream in her throat finally tore itself free.

The men around her froze, and the one who hadn’t stuffed his ears fell down on the wood, just as lifeless as the fish around her. Quick, shared glances, and then they were moving again.

And it all happened so quickly.

The wood of the ship bit into her cheek as she was pressed flat on the deck, two men on her tail to keep it down, a third sitting on her back to keep her from moving and to keep the air out of her lungs. Another man gripped her hands, but she couldn’t feel when her sharp claws were cut down to harmless nails.

And how she wished she had poison on her scales, luminescent lights and milky white eyes. How she wished she was as deadly as the old mermaids were, the ones who dwelled deep in the darkness with too many sharp teeth to keep in a mouth. Creatures so frightening that the humans would never want to approach.

But she was simply Angela.

She tried to scream again, couldn’t find the air nor the water to, and she was gasping like a fish on land. _How humiliating_ , she thought as her strength failed her.

Something sharp stuck her arm, and she didn’t even have the air to let out a pained groan. Darkness flickered, in and out and in and out, like the sunlight playing on the surface of the ocean, just before it set in the far distance.

Water once again surrounded her, but it felt wrong, too small and too cramped, a cold smooth surface pressing against her back as she sunk to the bottom. _A cage_ , she realized, just like the ones she had heard of in the stories of old.

 _This couldn’t be happening to her_ , she told herself, her eyes burning as raw as her throat, and the sweet water did nothing to soothe it. This only happened to others, told in messages brought to the cave every now and then. To others, not to her.

Few and far between.

 

*

 

The next time she woke, there was darkness. She was sitting up, the cage changed and no longer large enough to let her lie down. Four glass walls, not even enough space to reach out a full arm’s width, but the water tasted better. No longer sweet, the taste erased by a familiar salt.

Still dazed from whatever the humans had given her, she pressed her palms against the smooth walls. Slowly, she made her way up in the cage, couldn’t get far at all, her head bumping into a roof with a single small hole. Not enough to get out. Not even enough to let out her voice. Just barely enough to let some air in, keeping her alive.

The cruelty of man.  

She had to force herself to keep breathing, to will down the panic that was rising high in her chest and threatening to burst, to try and think of _home_ , to pretend that this wasn’t a glass cage designed to keep her in, but simply another unexplored part of her caves.

Just as she thought she had her heart under control, just as her breathing had become somewhat even once again, the cage jerked with movement. It glided forward, smooth with only a few bumps along the way that sent ripples through the water and made Angela try and clutch on to smooth surfaces with blunt nails that could no longer scratch and claw.

Strange sounds followed, muffled through the thick glass of the cage, but they grew louder and louder, as if amplified. Calls of numbers for objects, rising and rising until a loud shout quieted the rest down.

The cage paused, stood still. The darkness wasn’t as thick anymore, a light on the other end of it, as if there was simply something covering the cage. And next to her, a human voice, almost hoarse from screaming, continued counting object and numbers.

One object, few numbers.

A second object, no numbers.

A third object, lots and lots of numbers, a minute before the shout came.

There was a pause and silence fell. When the shouting human spoke again, Angela could hear the muffled words, and the human sounded like what he said was important. Like he was holding a secret everyone wanted in on.

“And now, for the special object we all have been waiting for!” Another pause, shorter this time. “Straight from the ocean, still young and fresh by every standard! My ladies and gentlemen! I bring you, for the first time in a decade-“

And then the darkness moved, pulled away by human hands, and Angela was blinded by light directed straight at her, warming her skin through the glass and the water, but nowhere near as pleasant as the sun through the ocean’s surface.

There was a roar around her, so loud she missed completely what the first screaming human said. She blinked furiously against the light, bringing up a hand to try and block it out. And shapes appeared before her.

Faces.

Human faces, row after row, with large eyes directed at her. Staring at her as if she was the last megalodon, hunted down and presented.

 _Put on display_ , her mind screamed, _the first step_. Her back pressed against the glass wall, tail curling up around her, her pulse quick and uneven and she could barely breathe.

Yet, the humans around her started their shouting again. Number after number, rising higher and higher and _higher_ , until some screamed no more and others screamed _even higher_. The world outside the glass box was chaos, and it continued for minutes and minutes, until some people were red in their faces from screaming and others sat low in their seats, defeated.

And then there was a last call, with numbers higher than Angela could count, and it sent a wave of silence through the room.

The screaming man screamed again.

Once.

Twice.

“Sold!”

At the call, the room started to move, people getting up in defeat, other lingering while staring at Angela. No one could get close to her, wasn’t allowed to by large men in black suits, and before anyone could try to lunge for her, the cage moved once again, sliding out of the room soundlessly.

There was an unfamiliar ringing noise in her ears blocking out everything else, her breathing was too shallow, hands trembling as she tried to clutch the smooth walls for support.

She had been _sold_. Like an _object_ , like someone had owned her from the very start, with the audacity to sell her as they pleased. And she had heard of this; her sisters sold to strangers, even though they were no one’s to sell, and they were put on even grander displays underneath a burning sun that cracked their skin and made them bleed until there were no flush on their cheeks and no shine left in their tails. Or they were sold to be slaughtered, their scales plucked one by one, all to please humans.

No one covered her cage as she was rolled through corridors amongst curious humans who didn’t avert their eyes. Staring at her. Whispering. _Laughing_. All Angela could do was sit completely still, burying her face in her arms with her tail curled up around her. Trying to hide from view, trying to forget what had happened, trying to think of anything else but what was to come.

Only when the cage came to a halt, did Angela glance up. The sailors who had captured her stood by the side, smoke from their lips twisted into wicked grins, looking anything but human. A woman stood amongst them, dressed in clothes that looked too pristine, too clean and too perfect. Her lips were moving, words Angela couldn’t hear through the glass, but the sailors looked like they had just been handed a grand prize.  

They looked over to her when the woman had finished talking, a piece of paper clutched in large hands, and they grinned wickedly as they passed her cage, their fingers brushing against the glass, knocking and _taunting_. And then they disappeared, their laughter loud enough for Angela to hear.

That was the last time she saw the sailors.

The woman turned to her, said nothing, stared with no emotion in dark eyes. Yet, Angela felt herself shrink underneath that gaze, wondering if the woman was simply a shark in disguise.

Her gaze flickered, looking at something behind Angela, lips moving once again with muffled words.

“The payment is done. We are ready to depart.”

A man stepped into view, looking different from the woman and the sailors, with kinder eyes and a neat suit, who moved as smooth as the hunters of the colony. Precise and careful, no wasted movements.

And Angela knew that this man was to be feared.

The man spoke, a foreign tongue that Angela recognized from a colony far away to the east, one that she had met briefly as a child. Memories fuzzy of age, she could still imagine the small cove, the sunshine on her skin as she swam with koi, colorful and beautiful, with legends surrounding them that involved nothing but life.

The woman replied in the same manner, and then the cage moved once again, pushed towards another, larger cage made of metal that already carried humans. Her cage was lifted up, pushed into a dark corner before the humans left her, closing off any hope of escape.

Alone and in a darkness that didn’t feel warm and welcoming, she wished desperately for a way out, tried and failed to topple her cage over, didn’t have a plan after that but tried nonetheless.

But her actions upset the humans, for a strange sound surrounded her, vibrations echoing through the glass and the water, humming in her very bones. She went still, whispering apology after apology while curling up in a corner. For she had heard of the rage of humans, and that was nothing she wished to experience.  

The vibrations grew louder, the roar of a beast surrounding her before it began to move, and she felt like she had been swallowed whole. Perhaps this was what her parents had meant when they told the stories of mermaids being eaten? Perhaps the humans would leave her in the metal beast until the metal turned brown and fell apart.

By then, she would already have reunited with her sisters.

 

*

 

In the darkness, with her own reflection staring back at her through a smooth wall of glass, she sang the songs she had heard as a child, wishing that they could bring her comfort. She sang of the open ocean, of seaweed stroking against fins, of creatures long forgotten. Lullabies of curious fish and whale cubs that wouldn’t sleep, of ancient words that could mend bones and clear minds.

And when her throat ached and her voice failed, she let her eyelids drop and sang a last song that promised light dreams and soft waves.

 

*

 

Sunlight, warming her skin through glass and water. In her sleepy daze, things were easily forgotten, and she stretched with a pleased sound, wondering what fun she could have with her siblings that day.

Her hands bumped into glass.

And just like that, she remembered again, eyes blinking open to stare at the humans who had let the sunlight inside the metal beast of a cage. They stared back, awe and wonder in their dark eyes, and when they moved it was slow and with care.

As if trying to approach a school of fish while not giving away that you are a shark.

They said not a word as they moved her cage, rescuing her from the metal that they had put her in the first place, and she felt the sunlight burning as she came out in the open. Buildings rose around her, built from wood and stone. She couldn’t help but look, curious as she was.

There was a calmness around her, different from the calm in the school of fish she had hid in before the net came crashing down. This calmness sipped into her skin and bones, for there was no sound around but the gentle breeze and a strange _rustling_.

She had known, had been taught, _had figured_ , that the plants growing on land were very different than the ones in the ocean, for they followed different laws and thus grew differently. There were no seaweed or coral, but large plants of wood and flowers, bright and soft in color. The same shade of pink as the tail of her older sister’s, partly a child of another colony.

And she found herself mesmerized as she stared at the flowers, moving in the wind, and she almost wished her siblings could see the same wonder. But she would never wish that same cruel fate for them.

There were soft whispers around her as the cage kept moving, pushing her beneath the pink, and she felt the gazes of the humans on her, but there was no hiding behind smooth, transparent glass.

It didn’t take long before the pink disappeared and they entered a building. Angela released a small breath of relief. They wouldn’t leave her out in the burning sun after all.

They passed rooms, the second fancier than the first, until they reached a large room and dread settled deep in her stomach. It felt like the time she had eaten an old clam on a dare and had been sick for the days that followed, while her parents scolded her in their worry.

Because taking up half of the large room, was a tank with just as smooth glass as her cage. There were rocks and plants, looking unfamiliar and artificial, placed out with too much precision. There were no caves for her to hide in, no rock large enough to cover all of her from view.

They left her to the side to watch, no human hands on her cage, as the tank was filled up with more and more water.

And this, she realized, was meant to be her new home.

She wondered for how long.

 

*

 

She tried to topple the cage over once again, almost succeeded before there were screams, hands pushing up against the glass to support it.

After that, two humans stood by her cage. Guarding her from herself.

 

*

 

There was little to do while the larger cage was being prepared. She couldn’t sing, for the song couldn’t possibly be loud enough to put the humans to sleep on the other side of the glass, nor did she want them to hear the ancient songs of her people, sacred and treasured, unique for her colony alone.

After all, those songs were meant only for family. They were to be sung to children who had trouble sleeping, meant to be sung with many voices and so beautifully that even the whales grew silent to listen. Meant to be sung to your mate, soft and tender, as colonies became one.

And so Angela kept her voice to herself, and decided that if the humans could stare at her, she could stare back.

 

*

 

They put a sheet over her cage only when no one dared to meet her gaze, cold like the ice of the north and burning like the fires deep down beneath the ocean’s floor.

 

*

 

Time was a strange thing when you were not allowed to see the actions around you, when your only company was your own quiet breathing.

And the whispers.

Quiet, fleeting, easily mistaken for ghosts in her own mind. Words in a language she was starting to remember, trying to memorize anew, a distraction and a cure for her boredom.

And then, when the whispers quieted down into nothingness, there were voices. Louder, angrier, spoken with an authority that sent shivers down her spine and made her instincts scream at her to _run, run, danger_.

She heard not all what was said, only fragments when their voices grew loud enough to reach her undisturbed, making her shrink back in her cage. Grateful for the sheet that covered her from view.

“-should’ve been done hours ago!”

There was a slam, ripples through the water.

“-a fortune on her and-“

Arms wrapping around herself, breath stuck in her throat, didn’t dare to breathe.

“- _die in her cage!_ ”

Her breath left her in a strained gasp, and she froze at the sound, irrationally afraid that it had been heard through glass and raised voices. But the sheet wasn’t removed, the conversation that turned into murmurs did not falter, and no one punished her for breathing or making sounds.

And the man left soon thereafter, for the world outside turned into silence only for a moment. Soft whispers rose again, the world moving on after the megalodon had passed. Still she felt her heart unable to calm within minutes, her hands trembling as she clenched and unclenched them.

For she hoped she would not have to ever face that angry man, whose voice boiled with fury, yet felt as calm as the open water, who spoke with the expectation of being respected and orders followed.

Not all dangerous creatures were hidden in the depths of the ocean.

 

*

 

When the sheet was removed, revealing her to the awestruck humans once again, Angela was still and alert. Ready for anything.

And when she saw the net approaching her, smaller in size and with thinner threads than the one who had captured her the first time, she felt shivers run down her body. The humans prepared carefully, no detail missed, with cotton in their ears and momentarily immune to her voice. There was a ladder leading up to her cage, placed there when the sheet had covered her, and the humans climbed it, eyes on her. No longer filled with awe, but with suspicion and care, aware of every movement she made.

The lid to her cage was removed, and she sat still.

The net was slowly lowered down in the cramped space she couldn’t escape from, and she sat still.

The net surrounded her, trapped her as it was pulled up again, and she sat still.

Wide eyes watched her, encouraging smiles to one another, because perhaps this would be easy. The mermaid did not fight back, did not reach for her voice, did not try to escape or take her life like they all did in the stories spread amongst humans. And so they started to relax, involuntarily and would later deny such an action, for they saw no dangerous predator in front of them, simply a pretty fish with a tail of gold.

The net was pulled up from the cage, bringing Angela with it into the air, and she sat still no longer.

Twisting around, she slapped a fin against a face, fingers slipping from their grip and she came tumbling down onto the floor. There were screams around her, “ _careful, she’s valuable_ ”, and she took a deep breath before she joined in.

Her voice cut the air, cold and chilling to the bone to any human that could not hear, chilling to the soul for those who could. And even her dangerous voice was beautiful, no longer muffled by water nor glass, and although the humans had prepared they still froze with shivers running up their spines.

Some of them would have nightmares for weeks, dreaming of sharp nails gripping their soul and _tearing_.

She created panic, not enough for her to escape the net and escape the humans, not enough for her to crawl away and crawl and _crawl_ until she reached the salty ocean. But at least she reminded the humans, if only for a moment, that she was a child of the Ocean. Restless and _dangerous_.

Human hands grabbed her, fingers sliding against her skin as they reached for the net, and soon enough she was once again in the air. Carried across the room, up over stairs, over new wooden floor at the edge of water. And she fought, trashed and turned, making it as hard as possible for the humans who struggled to not drop her again. She felt their fear through their skin, could only think back to the angry man.

Water surrounded her once again, but she wasn’t released from the net, entangled to the point where the humans cursed and brought sharp knives to cut her loose. And she tumbled down, free and disoriented, able to stretch her limbs once again.

But there were no caves and no covers, feeling like the barren floor they sometimes visited for clams and delicacies. Still she refused to be stared at like a simple fish, put on display for humans to _boast_ , and so she swam directly for the largest rock and hid behind it.

It covered all but the end of her tail, even if she sat curled up with arms around herself, as still as a predator waiting for its pray. And she had been a predator of the ocean.

She knew how to wait.

 

*

 

There were taps on the thick glass, gentle knocking turning aggressive when she didn’t respond. There were voices, muffled only slightly by the glass as it was created for display and not to keep her as harmless as possible. They spoke words about her, about the fortune they had spent only to see a single fin, about plans to make her come out from hiding.

“Remove the rock,” someone said.

“Remove _all_ rocks and she will be unable to hide,” someone else said.

A pause filled with laughter, cruel and unforgiving. For it was clear that the humans saw her as nothing more than a creature slightly more intelligent than a fish.

“Did you not know that an unhappy mermaid loses her shine?” A third voice spoke up, sounding calm with authority hidden behind false amusement. “Perhaps you would like to explain to my father why his latest purchase is no longer glimmering of gold?”

There was silence, uncomfortable and heavy.

“Or perhaps,” the person continued as unforgiving as the previous laughter, “you would like to explain to him why we have a dead mermaid in our home. They can easily die from sorrow and loneliness, did you know?”

Embarrassed mumbles followed, and when the man spoke again, Angela could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then I expect you to solve the issue with no cost to the wellbeing of our mermaid.” A pause, like an afterthought. “I will return later with Hanzo, once he’s returned from… _business_. I expect to see the mermaid alive and well.”

“Yes, young master,” the other humans spoke, respectful and ashamed. “We will do our best.”

And the _young master_ walked away, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor.

Moments later, a bucket of live fish were dumped into the tank in a hope to catch the precious mermaid hunting.

Angela did not move.

 

*

 

“Is that her tail?”

The voice startled Angela, realizing she had dozed off. Her joints ached from sitting still in the same position for too long, but she refused to move from her hiding place as long as there were humans around.

“That is her tail, yes.”

She blinked, flexed her fingers, a twitch in her tail.

“I had hoped the servants had worked out a way to make her appear, but…” the man, whom had been called _young master_ before, as if he was someone really important, trailed off and knocked lightly on the glass.

Another flick of her tail.

“Why not remove the rocks and force her out of hiding?” The other person suggested, the same as the humans before, and Angela just waited for the laughter.

Instead, there was an impatience in the first man’s voice.

“If anything, we should give her more shelter.” Another pause. “I’m sure we’ll catch a glimpse soon.”

There was a huff, another knock on the glass. “I’ve heard many rumors of mermaids and I had wished to confirm some. But you are right; she is not going anywhere.”

“If you mean the rumor of their beauty, I heard that she was definitely worth the price father paid for her, if not more.” Laughter sneaked into his voice. “She tried to escape when they took her out of the tank from the auction. Got water everywhere!”

A disapproving sound and then a click of a tongue. “If she is not appearing, I will not waste my time here. I have more urgent business to attend to.” A pause. “And you should go practice. I heard you missed your session yesterday.”

The brilliant laughter that seemed to fill the air and water alike, faded as the two humans walked away, taking their conversation with them.

Angela couldn’t figure out if this was a win or a loss on her side. Staying behind the rock seemed to lessen the interest in her, but from her position she could see nothing of the rest of the room, nor her captors.

And although she hated to admit it, she was somewhat curious of exactly what her captors looked like. And if that laughter came with an equally beautiful smile.

 

*

 

Not until night fell and covered the world in its darkness, not until the lights were dimmed and no one had visited her tank for hours, did Angela finally move.

She stretched slowly, feeling her joints pop and she let out a pleased hum. Carefully, she pushed up on the rock she had been hiding behind, scanning the room.

They had kept some lights on, at least over her large cage, although they were dimmed and didn’t hurt her eyes if she looked directly at them. But most importantly; there were no humans in sight.

Feeling free and relaxed for the first time since her capture, she took her time exploring the cage, feeling the water brush up against her skin, watched as the dimmed light played on her scales. She rearranged the rocks to her liking, building up a better shelter around the large rock she now knew every bump and dip in.

She wondered if the humans would take the rocks away from her when they saw.

The fish around her didn’t seem too afraid of her, easy prey and easy dinner, and she ate two before her stomach ached no longer. After that, the fish kept their distance until they forgot once again that she was a predator.

She swam to her heart’s joy until her lungs burned and tail ached and cheeks hurt from smiling. And although it couldn’t even be measured against the ocean, it felt better than the small cage she had been put in before.

And only when the sun started to rise and the lights above her turned brighter, did she return to her improved hiding place, settled in, and let sleep take her while the castle woke up.

 

*

 

“Two of the fish are missing,” someone pointed out. “At least she won’t die of starvation.”

“She’s moved the rocks,” someone else huffed. “Now we can’t even see her tail!”

“Oh, the master is going to be so mad,” someone said with a low voice. “He’ll be so, so mad.”

 

*

 

They let her keep the rocks, and more fish were dumped into the tank, bright in color and not the type Angela would hunt, for their meat tasted too sweet.

The master of the house visited briefly, the same man who reminded Angela of a megalodon, and she was glad she was hidden behind the rocks. He seemed unhappy, _displeased_ , as if someone had replaced his stash of food with pebbles. He gave the workers a warning, words not loud enough for Angela to hear, but the tone of his voice spoke volumes.

She was left alone after that, with no new visitors and only surrounded by the servants and workers who tried to coax her out of hiding. They played music to her, strange sounds that cut in her ears even through the glass and water. They let down strange objects into the water, offensive plastic and round in shape, and seemed to draw the fish’s attention for a little while. They put a strange metal box at the edge of the surface, which created pictures with the sound of people talking and laughing, and more of that strange music.

Angela endured their improvised torture, curling deeper into herself and shifting the rocks to hide better.

Eventually, when the sun started to set and the lights were dimmed once again, the humans left her alone with sighs and heads hanging low.

Alone in the night, Angela hunted and swam around once again.

 

*

 

Humans were persistent, she learned quickly. Stubborn creatures that didn’t know when to give up, who tried the same thing over and over again, as if trying a second time would change the outcome.

But it was not all negative. After all, it put her mind to work during the sunny hours, trying to guess the next thing the strange humans would try. 

 

*

 

A week passed quickly in the same manner; sleep during the morning hours, be disturbed by humans who tried to get her attention in every thinkable way possible, and then hunt during the night.

It was fine, she supposed, to live like that. _It could’ve been worse_. The megalodon or his sons had not visited again, occupied by their duties and _human things_ , whatever humans did when they weren’t disturbing a mermaid.

She told herself she didn’t miss that laughter, for it was impossible to miss something you’d only heard once.

 

*

 

I happened on the seventh day of her capture, when she forgot to keep an eye on the large doors, when fate once again punished her for her forgetfulness.

There was a sharp intake of air, something clattering to the floor.

In a single, swift motion, Angela turned around and faced the new danger. And the guard stared back, eyes wide of wonder and awe and the feeling of seeing something forbidden.

A heartbeat. That was how long it took before Angela was safe behind her rocks, hidden in her makeshift shelter with tail curled up around her and heart beating too fast and too hard.

But a moment was all it took.

 

*

 

The rumors spread quickly amongst servants and guards and staff, of the mermaid who looked like an angel and with a tail of liquid gold.

And suddenly, the nightshift became increasingly popular.

 

*

 

She became an attraction for the guards, who were the only ones to catch quick movements and liquid gold late at night. She could barely imagine the fury the master of the house must feel.

But the guards never disturbed her, simply stood in her room until she showed herself for seconds, catching fish and retreating back to her rocks. Still, she felt restricted, like a net she couldn’t escape from, her previous taste of freedom stolen once again.

She could hear the guards talking, gossiping while they watched the tank. Words about Angela and wishful thinking of hearing a mermaid’s song. Words about the young masters having traveled to another country and would soon return.

Words about the master of the house and his fury.

And it was to be expected, Angela knew, when the master himself visited her tank days later, for she had waited for the moment his patience would falter.

“Remove the rocks,” he ordered the servants, earned worried looks and respectful bows. There were no protests, simply mindless obedience as ripples spread across the surface. And Angela stirred, watched as a servant climbed down in her tank, one foot at a time.

She looked scared, face pale and hands trembling, even though she seemed to do her best to hide it.

Angela considered to show her mercy, for it had not been her own choice to walk into a mermaid’s territory, no matter how artificial it may be.

Because just like Angela had once forgotten to fear the open ocean, the humans who had heard rumors of her beauty during the night, had forgotten to fear _her_. Mermaids were predators. They were children of the ocean.

And so Angela began her song, and reminded them.

 

*

 

The servant almost drowned, fast asleep and sinking to the bottom. But humans looked out for each other, even if it meant diving down into the jaws of a shark.

Angela watched in silence as they rescued the servant.

They didn’t touch her rocks, didn’t dare to dive down in her waters again. And the master became angry, furious, _demanding_ that the rocks were removed because the mermaid had cost money, and something that had cost money was to be seen.

A servant spoke up, voice shaky and strained, gently reminding the master that his own son had said that a mermaid could die from loneliness, and that they were prone of taking their own lives if they no longer felt safe.

“Perhaps she just needs to get a bit more comfortable?”

 

*

 

The next morning, a small cave was installed in a corner of her tank.

 

*

 

The sun was just about to set and the lights just about to dim, when she got a visitor. The nightshift had begun merely minutes ago, and yet the guards were told to leave in a gentle and yet apologetic voice.

Angela recognized that voice, couldn’t help but glance out of her cave in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the man. Because the guards’ rumors of the young masters returning from their trip seemed to be true.

At first, she completely overlooked him, mistaking the green for one of the plants in her tank. Only after a double-take, staring at the green with a frown, did she realize that it wasn’t a plant.

It was hair.

How a human could have green hair was completely beyond Angela, but it fueled her interest, her curiosity. She leaned a bit further out of her cave, heart beating faster for every second, _excitement_ rushing through her veins.

He was lying on his stomach, facing the tank, a book in front of him on the floor that held his attention in the dim light. And Angela found herself frozen in place, staring at the human like it was the first time she had ever seen one, and the longer she stared the less she understood _why_ _she was actually staring_. After all, he was a _human_ , and thus wasn’t any different from any other human.

And yet.

There was _something_ about him, Angela was sure, _something_ that drew her attention and curiosity. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

The man didn’t notice her, simply read in his book and seemed content like that, with feet in the air in a careless manner. Completely relaxed.

A fish bumped into the glass. The man lifted his gaze, and Angela was safe in her cave once again, hidden from view with a heart beating too fast and she hoped and _wished_ that the man hadn’t seen her.

And the man spoke.

“I apologize if I scared you.” Voice like silk and warm as the sun, sounding apologetic and tired at the same time. “It was not my intention.”

A pause.

“I simply wish to share some company. I was unable to sleep and I figured that your company would be more pleasurable than Hanzo’s.”

It was _illogical_ in every way, stupid thinking that didn’t make any sense. Because she wasn’t much of a company, hidden in her cave and hidden from sight, and she would never answer the human in anything but deadly song.

Stupid, unless of course, he was talking to the fish and not to her.

There was a longer pause, and Angela assumed that he had gone back to his book, when he spoke up again, voice softer.

“I’m Genji. What’s your name?”

And Angela didn’t know what he had expected, but she kept her mouth shut and body still. She could wait, she decided even though her stomach started to growl with hunger, until the man had either left or fallen asleep. She would not, under any circumstances, show herself for him.

Especially not now, when she knew his name and found herself wondering what it would taste like upon her tongue.

 

*

 

Genji spoke no more during his visit and left an hour before sunrise, allowing Angela to finally have her dinner in peace.

And yet it was strange, how she wished that he would return.

 

*

 

He visited again the next night, and the following night, and the night after that. He read in his book, silent and comfortable on the floor, using the light from her tank to read the words.

Every time he arrived, he would shoo away the guards who had no choice but to oblige, and he would greet Angela with a smile in his voice. And every time, he would talk to her before getting down on the floor, telling her gossip of the castle or what he had for dinner that evening or what funny thing Hanzo had done that day.

It didn’t take long before Angela came to look forward to his visits, for he treated her like an equal and not like a stupid fish that was simply pretty to look at. And she noticed how every night, he moved closer and closer to her tank until he was sitting with his back against the glass, unable to see her if she moved.

And so she did.

A quick dart from her cave to the rocks, catching a fish on the way, silent and deadly. Genji didn’t notice her, or at least made no implication that he did, simply sat completely still with the book resting in his lap. Slowly slipping from his fingers.

Curiosity would be the death of her, Angela decided without any regret, as she licked her fingers clean and swam out into the open.

Genji sat still.

She swam closer until she could touch the glass and read the words on the book, although she knew not how to read the human languages.

Genji sat still.

Frowning, she considered a tap on the glass, wanting to slap herself for such stupidity, for craving attention from a _human_. For being so _desperate_.

But Genji sat still with his head resting on the glass and Angela pressed her palm against the point where his hair spread out, as if she could feel it through the tank.

She wondered if it was soft.

And then she realized that Genji had fallen asleep, book finally slipping out of his fingers and onto the floor, closing on itself. She couldn’t see his face, could only imagine the softness of his expression.

She let him sleep in peace, humming an old lullaby to herself as she withdrew to her cave.

 

*

 

When she woke up the morning after, Genji was still there. The servants who usually put fish in her tank stood at the door, shifting from leg to leg, nervous over the sight of their young master asleep at the tank.

Perhaps wondering if Angela had sung him to sleep.

Angela could not move out into the open when she knew she would be seen. Still, she wanted her fish and those servants had been nothing but kind to her, in their own silent and scared way.

Picking up a pebble, she threw it at the glass, near Genji’s head.

_Tick._

A second pebble.

_Clink._

A third pebble.

 _Tock_.

And Genji startled awake, blinking rapidly and looking around after a threat. It took a second or two for him to realize that he hadn’t left for his own bed the night before, and another second for him to see the servants at the door, staring past him with wide eyes.

Stretching his arms over his head, muscles flexing underneath a tight shirt most humans insisted on wearing, Genji noticed the servants’ gazes. Slowly, he turned his head towards the tank, catching only the tips of two fingers before they slipped back into the cave.

“Good morning,” he offered, voice still raspy and dark from sleep.

Angela had to spend the rest of the day inside her cave, curled up on herself as she tried to forget green hair and flexing muscles and a raspy voice that sent shivers down her skin that didn’t feel all that bad.

And she tried even desperately to fight the warmth of her cheeks.

 

*

 

The next night, Genji got a little bolder.

Instead of staying at the floor, he kept moving, walking up the stairs to the second floor in the room, to the small area where the floor met the surface of her tank. There, at the edge of her territory, did he sit down with his legs crossed and book in hand, greeting her with a smile in his voice.

Angela shifted in her cave, able to see only his legs and bare feet, but she knew that from his position he would only be able to see her clearly if she was to leave the cave.

It didn’t take long before her stomach growled.

Taking a deep breath, she peeked out of the cave, keeping a watchful eye on Genji. And Genji didn’t move from his position, eyes on the book that looked different from yesterday. Probably a new one.

Angela swam to some rocks, a small shelter that would never work if Genji actually looked at her. She waited, her heartbeat calming somewhat, and then swam to her old shelter of rocks, placing her just beneath Genji.

If he was to look down, he would be able to see her as clear as the day, even though the lights were dimmed. Because Angela hadn’t been too lonely and hadn’t felt too bad in the tank, and so her scales hadn’t dulled in color, shining just as brightly as before when they caught the light.  

But Genji didn’t look, just like he rarely did, and so Angela took the chance.

After all, hadn’t the young master claimed he’d come to her tank for company during his sleepless nights?

She broke the surface silently, keeping only her head in the air that felt too chilly on her skin, her hair falling flat around her and heavy with water. And that made Genji look, startling back with wide eyes full of shock and surprise, a hand lifting to reach out for something behind his back in a trained response to the unexpected.

But before something sharp could be pointed at her, before the human even realized what was going on, Angela had opened her mouth and started singing. She sang him the song of the lonely whale cub, lost from its mother and out in the open sea, its cries echoing in the nothingness and left unanswered.

Genji’s eyes dropped, a dim haze of sleep wrapping around him as he fell to the side, body relaxing as sleep overtook him. Only then, when his breath was slow and even, did Angela stop her song, leaving the whale cub alone in the open ocean with no rescue in sight.

She paused, looking at his sleeping face like she couldn’t the day before, actually seeing him clearly for the first time. She decided that he was, by every standard possible, quite handsome.

Slowly, she reached out with her hand, water dripping down on the wood and down on his cheek, but he was so deep in sleep that he didn’t flinch at the contact. Yet she paused, breath in her throat, because he was so, _so_ close and if he was to open his eyes he would see nothing but Angela.

She almost wished that he would.

Pushing away those traitorous thoughts before she could get any strange ideas, she tilted her head slightly to the side, tongue between her teeth in concentration, and reached out the last bit and sunk her fingers through his green hair.

It was soft. Just like she had expected, and yet it was softer than she could’ve ever hoped for, like silk between her fingers.

How could she ever have mistaken it for a plant?

She stroked the hair away from his face, leaving a damp trail upon his skin that would have since long dried when he woke up.

She should’ve have retreated then, left him alone and gone hunting. It would be the logical thing to do, because this was a _human_ and she had no business with him. But she found herself unable to move away, fingers trailing down his cheek, over the sharpness of his jaw, thumb swiping over his lips. Retreating only when they parted, letting out a soft sigh that tickled her skin.

Looking down at her hand as if offended, she wondered what in the world she was doing. Touching a human, _a sleeping human_ , and not feeling disgust or anything of the like, but only warmth and tingling upon her skin?

Oh, the shame she would feel if her colony saw her now.

With one last look at his sleeping face, she returned down into the water just as soundlessly as she had surfaced.

 

*

 

At one point during the night, Angela couldn’t keep herself away from Genji any longer, her curiosity stealing her heart and will. She poked his face once more, before picking up the book and ruining the cover with her wet fingers.

As she had expected, she couldn’t read a single word that was written. Merpeople didn’t have a written language of their own, their voices enough to carry messages and tales of old.

But the humans were strange and much different than them.

Besides, the book had pretty pictures to look at.

 

*

 

Genji woke with the sun, rising slowly and stretching. Angela had already retreated to her cave, on the brink of sleep, and only dully noted when she heard his voice.

“I fell asleep here again, huh?”

A groan of the wood as he stood up, and then a soft laughter, words directed at her.

“If you want to read that badly, I can get something waterproof for you.” A pause. “Do mermaids even read?”

Angela had to cover her mouth with both hands to suffocate a laughter at his worried, yet confused, tone. And she had to swallow down the impulse to answer him.

His steps were silent as he walked down the stairs, stopping in front of her tank, hair a mess and red marks upon his skin after sleeping on the floor. He gave the cave a raised eyebrow, an expression Angela couldn’t see from within her safe darkness.

His next words made her freeze, hands falling from her mouth as her breath got caught in her throat, feeling like she was suffocating.

“You didn’t by any chance show yourself last night? See, I had the strangest dream…”

He trailed off, and with a last sigh, he was gone.

 

*

 

The following night, Genji carried both a stupid grin on his lips, and various devices in his arms. He greeted her like he always did, all smile and warmth in his voice, before he settled down on the floor in front of her tank, tinkering with the devices in his arms.

Curious, Angela poked her head out of her cave, just enough to see what he was doing. And as usual, he wasn’t looking at her, focused on the task at hand, building something with wires and a small red lamp.

Angela rolled her eyes, retreating back into her cave.

 _Humans_. Always up to something new.

It didn’t take long until Genji had finished, walking up the stairs to sit down at the same position as yesterday. He had a new book in hand, with a cover made of see-through plastic.

Angela waited for minutes before taking a deep breath and swimming out from her cave. Again, Genji didn’t see her, eyes on his book. But the device he had put up seemed to _stare_ at her, red lamp blinking every now and then, and she gave it a quick glare.

She resurfaced, gaining the same startled response as the day before, only now _understanding_ flashed in those dark eyes that were soon dimmed over with sleep, as Angela sung the lullaby of the ocean’s sisters, stroking the sand of beaches, forever a part of both sea and land. And Genji fell asleep, lips parted to let out soft breaths.

Once again, Angela lingered. Fingers tracing his nose and lips, brushing hair out of his face and leaving trails of water upon smooth skin.

After dinner, she picked up the new book, careful this time with the fragile pages that contained more words than pictures and soon lost her attention. She picked up Genji’s hand instead, stroking the surface of his palm, feeling the same roughness as the one the hunters of the colony carried, from wielding weapons their whole lives.

She told herself a lie. That her interest in Genji, her fascination of the human, came from the fact that he was a hunter.

She told herself a lie. And it was ridiculous really, for such thoughts should make her want to stay away from him. For hunters were dangerous, especially those with two legs and cunning minds. _Should_ stay away. Because she _couldn’t_ , found herself drawn to him, found herself listening to the smooth tone of his voice, found herself waiting until nightfall when he would visit again.

She told herself a lie. That perhaps some humans weren’t that bad after all.

 

*

 

The morning after, Genji woke and stretched, smiling at the cave. “Good morning.”

Angela wondered when he would get tired of sleeping on the floor, wondered when he would stop visit her because of it. And she hoped that he wouldn’t.

He picked up his book and got ready to leave, mumbling something under his breath, words so silent Angela couldn’t hear. He paused at the strange device he had put up, pushed some buttons, and then carried it with him.

Angela stared after him, wrinkle between her eyebrows as she frowned at his retreating back.

Wondering exactly what the human was up to.

 

*

 

Very few people in the castle had seen the mermaid. There were some servants who had seen her the day she had arrived. There were some guards who had seen her during the stillness of the night, when she hunted for fish. There were even those who claimed they had seen her during the day, giving inaccurate descriptions of her beauty, creating rumors that were far from the truth.

And now, Genji had seen her too.

Because the device had been a camera, capturing every moment of his visit. It caught the moment Angela left her cave and caught the song that made Genji sleepy by hearing it again through his headphones. It caught when she touched him, his own fingers trailing his nose and lips as if he could feel a lingering touch from hours ago, and it caught her trying to read a book with letters she couldn’t understand.

It caught her touching him so tenderly and carefully, as if she was afraid he would break.

And it caught her trying to inspect the camera, twirling around in the water, looking right into it with brilliant blue eyes that stole Genji’s breath away.

He decided, as he saved the video to his tablet, that the rumors had done her no justice at all.

 

*

 

When he visited next, the guards seemed surprised, for it was nowhere near evening and the young master should have better things to do than to visit the mermaid.

But he brought lunch.

Angela kept to her cave, peeking out only when she was sure, or when she hoped, that no one would look her way. And she saw him eating raw fish with sticks, found herself frowning at how _barbaric_ it looked, and she couldn’t help the disgusted sound that left her lips.

The sound made Genji look up, missing her by only a heartbeat, only catching sight of her golden tail. Still, a smile spread on his lips as he finished his food.

A servant came by to remove the empty dishes, bowing low and said nothing.

Angela peeked out of the cave again, head tilting slightly to the side at the sight of the young master. He didn’t have a book with him, which was strange in itself, but she couldn’t possibly figure out why he would visit her when the sun was still up. Then, he could no longer use the excuse of wanting company on sleepless nights.

So what did he want?

And she watched as he began reading from old scrolls, writing on blank paper in delicate movements and with not a single stroke out of place. It was mesmerizing to watch, and Angela found it impossible to look away.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Genji started and Angela was quickly safe within her cave once again, despite Genji not having lifted his gaze upon her, “if I study in your presence. I have found that this is the most calming place in the castle.”

A pause.

“Do you read?”

Angela huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, because this was just _beyond_ stupid. The human didn’t seem to give up, trying to strike a conversation with her, trying to make her _talk_ , as if she would ever have something to say to a _human_. If anything, he was only trying to get friendly with her to make her tell the stories of her people, to reveal their locations and put her own species on a plate to be eaten with sticks.

At least, that’s what she’d been told by her family, to never trust the intentions of a human. It had killed many before her. And if it was anyone else but her, perhaps they would have listened.

But Angela was fairly good at listening to her own curiosity. And she had a _feeling_ , may it be stupid and lead her into her own death, that the human had no bad intentions at all.

Perhaps he was just as lonely as her.

“How about, if you mean a ‘yes’ you throw one rock at the glass? And if you mean a ‘no’ you throw two rocks?”

Angela hesitated, picking up a pebble.

_Tick._

“Oh? So you do read?”

_Clink. Tock._

“Alright, no reading. Would you like me to read for you?”

A long pause, teeth sinking down in her lower lip as Angela stared at the two pebbles in her hand. She should continue to ignore him. But then again, she should’ve done a lot of things in her life that she never did.

Look where it got her.

And imagine where it could bring her.

_Clink._

“I’ll bring a book this evening then! Do you have any preferences?”

And that was a tricky question, because Angela wanted to learn more about the humans’ stories, the old ones that faded into legend, but always held a core of truth. But she could only answer in ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

She threw the rocks.

_Tick._

_WHACK._

And the room was filled with Genji’s loud laughter as the fish shook itself and swam back to its small school, acting as if nothing had happened.

Angela considered hitting another fish just to hear his laughter again.

 

*

 

“It’s about a young boy who tames a dragon,” Genji said as he opened the book, and Angela noted that it was wrapped in plastic. “It’s a children’s book, but I believe you’ll enjoy it. Just throw a rock at me otherwise!”

Angela thought that was a stupid idea, but prepared a pebble nonetheless.

And so Genji read to her, about a fictional adventure of Vikings and dragons, and she settled in as comfortable as she could, closing her eyes and listening to his smooth voice. Only when sleepiness took over his voice and he had to pause to yawn, did Angela throw the pebble at him.

“Yeah,” Genji yawned. “I should sleep, don’t you think?”

The next pebble hit his leg and earned her a soft laughter.

 

*

 

Genji started visiting more often, sitting with her during the day and reading for her during the night, until he grew tired and fell asleep, allowing her to hunt in peace.

Sometimes during the day, servants would come get him, trying to make him return to his duties. At one point, an old man carrying a sword visited, demanding that Genji showed up to his training. They ended up dueling in front of the tank, and it ended in a stern voice of “you’ve been slacking off, Genji” and a harsh lesson that left Genji panting and sweating on the floor, unable to rise for minutes. Angela threw a pebble over the tank, and it landed on the floor next to him.

He laughed until he wheezed.

Angela joined in.

 

*

 

The older brother, Hanzo, visited them once while Genji was writing in those delicate letters once again, holding a fine brush in one hand and holding away his long sleeve with the other, careful not to touch the drying ink.

Genji looked up when Hanzo approached, sitting down next to him and rolling out a scroll of his own. And Angela watched in fascination as the two brothers bickered silently as they studied the letters together.

 

*

 

Angela was sure there was something severely wrong with her. Because it couldn’t possibly be normal to long after a human in the way she found herself to do, and it couldn’t be normal that her heart sped up a bit when he approached her tank.

Her cheeks had started to ache from smiling too much.

 

*

 

It was strange and weird, and therefore probably very wrong, that she found herself relaxing in Genji’s presence, even when there were other humans around.

It was strange and weird, and very wrong, how she had to stop herself from answering with her voice whenever he spoke to her, pebbles biting into her hand until she reminded herself to throw them.

It was strange and weird, and not wrong at all, when she realized that she liked Genji, in a way that differed from how she liked her mother and siblings and sisters of the colonies. How the very thought of him made her cheeks warm and set aflame a fluttering in her chest, feeling like something was trapped within her and wanted out.

It wasn’t strange nor weird, nor wrong in any way, when she realized that she had fallen for a human.

 

*

 

She started to become careless around him, telling him late at night when his yawns interrupted the reading, that he should go sleep. And she told him through lullabies, not to make him fall asleep, but to make him feel the tiredness in his bones.

He always listened to the end of her lullabies, sung in languages unknown to man with words describing a world that had long come to change and pass, and he would whisper back a “goodnight”, lingering as if he wanted to add something. Perhaps a name Angela never told him.

And Genji would rarely return to his own room during the night, and built a nest of blankets and pillows at the edge of the water that the servants never questioned nor touched. Sometimes when Genji wasn’t there, and when the guards didn’t pay attention to her, she would jump out of the water and lie down in the nest that hid her just as well as her own cave. And it smelled strange in a way that was far from unpleasant, with spices and warmth and that smell that was uniquely human.

She stole a blanket to wrap around herself in her cave, trying to build a similar nest of her own. And if Genji noticed, he didn’t comment on the missing blankets and pillows, simply brought new ones.

 

*

 

She began to swim out in the open more often, when no one was there to see. She swam with the fishes, the colorful ones that let her, and hunted when she felt hungry. And only when she heard footsteps upon the floor or light chatter of guards and servants, did she quickly hide in her cave or behind her rocks.

Sometimes, she wasn’t quick enough, and the human passing by would catch a glimpse of blonde hair or golden scales. Never all of her, but enough to spread new rumors that Genji retold her when he visited, laughing at silly words he knew weren’t true.

And Angela told herself that it was fine, that she hadn’t come to harm because of it. That Genji hadn’t seen her. As long as she made no mistakes, she told herself she could live in this strange bubble of reality, where Genji came to visit and never saw her. That everything was fine.

But Angela had always been fairly good at making mistakes.

 

*

 

Genji was a hunter. That, Angela knew because she had seen his instinct at work, had felt the roughness of his palms, had seen him spar with sharp weapons.

Hunters were cunning and deadly. But most importantly; they were quiet.

And so Angela missed the soft steps upon wood, missed the pause in the air as she twirled around with colorful fish with a laughter on her lips and light playing on her scales.

She didn’t miss the gasp of air, the sound of a book hitting the floor.

Turning around in an array of bubbles, she found Genji staring at her, close enough that if she reached out she could’ve perhaps touched him if there were no glass separating them. And she stared back into warm, dark eyes, wide with shock and surprise and awe and wonder. Framed with long eyelashes and delicate ink. Something warmer underneath that sent shivers over her skin, a fluttering in her stomach.

And she couldn’t move, her body not responding, feeling numb with breath caught in her throat and she wanted to _hide_ and _disappear_ and don’t look, _don’t look_.

Fear must’ve shown in her eyes, for Genji closed his eyes and kept them closed, taking a shivering breath.

Just like that, the spell was broken. And all Angela left behind was an array of bubbles as she hid in her cave, panting heavy with her back pressed up against sharp, artificial rock. There was a silence, her heart calming down, and she could feel her cheeks and eyes _burn_.

“Hey,” came the soft voice and Angela felt her nerves melt immediately, couldn’t even hate herself for that reaction anymore, for just hearing Genji’s steady voice brought a calmness upon her mind and racing heart.

“I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to see…“ A pause, a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

And Angela wanted to answer him that it was alright, that everything was fine now. That the bubble had already been broken, the mistake already made, and there was no taking it back. That he had simply startled her, that she had imagined things to go differently, that she was so spellbound by the intensity of his eyes that she forgot how to breathe.

She sat quiet.

“I won’t ever look again, less you want me to,” Genji continued, something desperate sneaking into his voice, and why did Angela’s heart ache at the sound? “I won’t treat you any different, I’ll continue to visit, I’ll continue to read for you. Just…” a shaky breath. “ _Please_.”

A bitter taste in her mouth, heart clenching and aching, throat thick with breath and voice stuck inside. The familiar taste of desperation, of longing, the _knowing_ that she would never again see her home-

Ah, so this was what if felt like to be on the brink of losing someone dear?

Angela had always been fairly good at making mistakes. But this was a mistake she couldn’t afford to repeat.

Peeking out of her cave, she saw that Genji lingered. Eyes still closed, hands pressed against the glass, as if he could in some strange way hold on to her. He looked sad and desperate, but not like he had just lost his favorite weapon. He looked like he too was on the brink of losing his home.

And so Angela swam up to the glass, soundless like any predator, fingers and palms pressing against the cool glass where Genji’s own were on the other side. It felt strange, she decided as she rested her forehead against the tank, that she no longer felt any fear in her veins, no longer felt any panic seeping through her bones.

Slowly, Genji opened his eyes.

He said nothing, stared into her eyes for a long moment, lost within the ocean of her eyes. Blue and dark depths pulling him under, wrapping around him in warmth. For her eyes spoke of caves with thousands of tunnels where one could so easily get lost, of laughter and song in languages long forgotten to man, of colorful reef and fish that couldn’t even rival the shine of her scales.

Her eyes spoke of a home he had never known, but would come to learn through her.

“I brought a new book,” he said, voice so soft Angela almost couldn’t hear it, and he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes falling closed. “It’s about mermaids. A human’s take on them. But you’ll have to promise me one thing.”

He opened his eyes, warm and dark and tinted with careful amusement. “Please don’t put me to sleep again.”

And Angela laughed, soft and short and sweet, because the look Genji gave her made her cheeks burn and heart flutter and a part of her decided that he could look at her forever, if only he wore that look.

 

*

 

That night, he read her a book about a mermaid.

“It’s only a human interpretation,” he apologized, smiling almost shyly at her as she broke the surface to join his side, arms resting on the edge of the wooden floor, keeping her afloat. “It was written long ago, as a story for children.”

And as he began to read, voice sounding much clearer and brighter and _warmer_ without being muffled through water, Angela closed her eyes and listened. He read her the story of a small mermaid, who fell in love with a human prince. A small mermaid who sold her voice to a witch to gain legs to walk with, only to see her prince. In the end, they defeated the evil witch for she tried to claim the prince’s heart, even though it already belonged to someone else.

“And they lived happily ever after.”

 

*

 

Angela didn’t tell him at the time that the story he told was true, that the merpeople spoke of a similar tale. A story where the little mermaid sold her voice for legs and endured the pain every day, all for a human prince she had fallen for. And in the end, the prince never returned her love, had fallen for another human. Her sisters offered her a knife, to kill the prince and regain her tail and scales. But the mermaid claimed by love could never do such a thing.

The story didn’t end in a marriage or a happy ending.

The truth ended in seafoam and a name forgotten.

 

*

 

Genji was true to his word and didn’t falter in his visits, treating her like the equal she was. Nothing had changed between them, even though Angela no longer hid from him, and even though his voice sometimes faltered with words forgotten on his tongue.

And Angela enjoyed the new closeness, joining him at the surface whenever she could, resting upon wood and chewing on fish while he studied or read by her side and seemingly unfazed by her actions.

He still brought lunch and ate like a barbarian with sticks, but now he would share with her if she wished to taste. And it became a thing of theirs, for Angela to try new food, because it was a symphony in her mouth with new tastes and textures she could never even have imagined, with combinations that sounded strange in her ears but made her sigh as she tasted them. And the only thing that was wet in Genji’s range of dishes were “sauces” and “soups”, and Angela just thought that sounded stupid, especially since she couldn’t eat them with her fingers. She had tried in frustration and Genji had laughed at her tries to lick her elbow after the soup had gotten everywhere.

Angela learned from her mistakes.

They grew more and more comfortable in each other’s company, moving close to each other until their skin barely touched. Genji never closed that distance, always respectful of her boundaries, waiting so patiently for her to make the first move, for her to say that it was alright. And Angela found it harder and harder to stay away from him, got as close as she could as she looked at the pretty pictures in the books he brought to read, could smell spices and warmth and human upon his skin.

And Angela’s scales soon seemed to shine on their own.

 

*

 

“Please teach me how to read,” was the first thing she ever said since she was brought to the Shimada castle, and it felt strange to speak after months of keeping her voice to herself, for speaking and singing were two different things upon her tongue.

But Genji listened to her, looked up from the book in his lap, met her gaze and his lips parted in a smile. And Angela couldn’t help but lean closer, if only a breath, close enough to feel the spices and warmth in the air.

There was no hesitation as Genji answered that yes, he could teach her. And he sat still as Angela sat next to him, their arms pressing together as he taught her to read with a patience she had never come across before.

Because Angela wasn’t good at reading, not to begin with, the letters flowing into each other and becoming strange nonsense she couldn’t make sense of. But Genji was there and he helped her sort out that mess, taught her to pronounce the English letters correctly until she could read a whole page by herself in under thirty minutes.

Soon, they read one page each during the night, and Angela could read faster and better. Because the faster and better she read, the sooner Genji would take over and read again, warming her soul with his calm and melodic voice.

The only problem was that Genji seemed to do the same thing to her.

 

*

 

She asked to know the lore of his people. And weak as he was for her charm, he read her the stories, of old legends and tales, of broken vases and cats with tails cut in two, of women in snowstorms, and then had to explain the concept of snow.

And Angela listened with wonder in her eyes, amazement at the curiosities of man. Genji laughed at her wrinkled nose as he described the coldness of snow, and smiled warmly with butterflies in his stomach as she demanded to look at the pictures in the books.

In return, Angela told him legends of her own people.

Of the merpeople who had never felt sunlight upon their skin, who hid deep into the depths with teeth too many for their jaws, with pale skin and milky, unseeing eyes. With luminescent lights on their bodies, drawing prey into their waiting jaws, of the poison on their skin and sharp nails.

Of the many mermaids before her, sisters in name only, that had been captured by humans, lured in by their curiosity that was both a gift and a curse from their great Mother. Who had been punished for trying to return home. Who had been put in the burning sun until they cracked like porcelain. Who had been put on display for everyone to see, until their scales lost their shine and their hearts withered.

Of stories her mother had told her when she was small, stories and legends from other colonies. And they spoke of koi and mermpeople alike, with glimmering scales in orange and white and red and gold, who climbed waterfalls. Because at the top, they would find peace, and they would turn into serpents that swam in the sky.

And just like Angela had been amazed by Genji’s stories, he was just as mesmerized by hers. Perhaps it was because her legends had been hidden underneath the surface, untold to humans.

Or perhaps because her legends weren’t just stories.

They were truths.

 

*

 

Winter drew near and Genji wore more and more clothes, covering more and more skin. And while he sat under layers of blankets with tea warming his hands, Angela told him the story of the little mermaid.

The true story and not the one the humans had changed.

Genji listened, intense and breathless, and only spoke when she had finished.

“Can all mermaids turn into seafoam?”

And Angela answered him that it was not a fate to wish upon anyone. Because they would forever be a part of the ocean, and forever apart from it, unable to move on and unable to stay.

“It is the greatest sacrifice.”

 

*

 

Despite their time together, Genji was still a son of the Shimada, and thus he had duties that brought him outside the castle for days and weeks. Sometimes, he had to leave without warning, but he brought souvenirs and foreign books as apologies.

Still, it didn’t make the time without him any less bittersweet. Without Genji’s presence, the guards and servants seemed to flock around her tank, hoping for a glimpse of the mermaid they had heard so many rumors about.

The master of the house visited once, near the shifting of years, and although he said nothing and Angela never showed herself, she had a bad feeling in the bottom of her stomach. And it lasted until Genji returned home again, his smile and voice and laughter chasing any demon away.

He would tell her stories he’s heard on his travels, about other cultures and their view of mermaids and merpeople. Of their legends that seemed close to the truth and that had perhaps once been told by a mermaid herself.

And he told her about that one mermaid he met at a crime lord’s home, with pale scales and dark skin. He had told her Angela’s stories, and although he had been ridiculed by the humans for speaking to a mermaid, she had smiled and thanked him, had asked to bring greetings back home to his own mermaid.

Angela wondered for days who it could be, for she had heard names of her sisters from the day she had been born. And the messages of stolen sisters had been few and far between, but she had heard the names and she had tried to remember them.

Perhaps the mermaid had been Fareeha of the large Mediterranean colony, a warrior and a hunter and a pride of her people, stolen one night with only the trace of her dead brothers left behind. Perhaps it had been Satya, from a colony to the east, whose song could bend light and reality the same, stolen one morning when her song had not been enough. Perhaps it had been a nameless one, with unknown song and skill, stolen before Angela’s time.

Still, she suffered with the unknown sister who had met a fate similar to her own.

 

*

 

The next time Genji left for his duties, rumors started to spread in the castle’s corridors. Of a dead crime lord, murdered in his own home, with a broken fish tank large enough to carry a mermaid.

But there were no trace of the assassin, nor of the mermaid. 

 

*

 

“She wished to thank you,” Genji said when he visited her next, carrying a strange calmness upon his skin that Angela recognized so well, having seen it in the afterglow of a good hunt. “And she will return the favor, will spread your name to every colony, will ease your family’s mourning. _For the ocean’s Mercy shall not be forgotten_.”

And Genji gave her an odd look at that, a frown and a wrinkle between his eyebrows, looking perplexed and amazed at the same time.

“Do no worry,” Angela told him then, smiling at him and tried to ease his frown. “For those words were not meant for you, and thus, they will carry no meaning to a human.”

There was a pause, and the frown smoothed out as Genji smiled back, reaching out with a hand and then hesitating. As if he wanted to touch her but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. But Angela closed the distance, taking his hand in her own, feeling the roughness of his palm. She felt him still, his breath hitching, and she smiled for she’d had the same reaction the first time she had felt his smooth skin upon hers.

“Is that your name? _Mercy_?”

“No, but that is what the daughters of my colony are called.” A pause, a fluttering in her chest, and she had to take a calming breath before she continued. “My name is Angela.”

And Genji tasted her name, repeated it under his breath and in laughter as he pulled up her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and burning her cheeks, and she was unable to pull away. So she smiled with him, no longer bothering to hide her blush, for Genji wore a similar color upon his cheeks.

If Angela had been a little bit braver, she might’ve reached up and kissed that warmth.

 

*

 

Something seemed to change after that, enough so the change became noticeable.

Genji would greet her with her name when he joined her side, and she would greet him back and finally taste his name upon her lips. And she found that it tasted sweeter than any food he had brought for her to taste.

They would share touches, lingering and light and sweet. They would talk for hours until there was nothing left to talk about, and then fall into a comfortable silence with skin pressed together, and stole glances when they thought the other wouldn’t see. And before Genji left her, in the early mornings or when his duties called, he would kiss her hand and although it was such a human gesture, it felt strangely intimate.

And Angela could only wonder what his lips would feel like on other parts of her skin.

 

*

 

“It’s been a year.”

Angela looked at the pink flowers in Genji’s arms, recognized them from the day she had been brought to the castle.

One year.

That’s how long she had spent with Genji.

That’s how long she had been stuck in a glass tank she had found to call home.

That’s how long she had been gone from her family.

Genji sat down at his regular spot and Angela joined him on the wood, lying on her stomach and resting her head on her arms. They were silent, for neither knew what to say. And so, Genji let his fingers talk.

He brushed away her hair, gentle and carefully, fingers tracing her cheek for merely a heartbeat. And Angela sighed, eyelids falling closed as she relaxed into his touch. He braided her hair, decorating it with the pink flowers, and then moved on to her back, fingers and palms trailing patters upon her skin. Aimlessly, but pleasurable, pressing firmly where needed and ghosted over her skin so lightly it sent shivers down her spine.

“Do you miss them?”

And of course Angela missed them, missed her siblings and family and her colony. Missed the familiar cave and tunnels and colorful fish. Missed the mixture of voices as they all fell into song, missed the way it would carry through the tunnels in echoes that continued for hours.

But she had a new home now, one that she didn’t find too horrible with Genji’s company. Even some of the guards and servants were excellent company, and she wondered briefly if perhaps she should try and befriend them as well.

And so she answered him.

“I miss them more than anything, but I have no choice in the matter. I am content where I am now, for I would gladly sacrifice my own freedom for my family’s safety. Fate could have been crueler.” She paused, shifted slightly underneath his hands with a happy sigh. “As it would seem, fate has been rather kind. Captivity is easier to bear with you by my side.”

Her words seemed to render him speechless, for only his breath left him in a rush. His fingers stilled upon her back, but she laid still, felt him shift. And she felt a touch upon her skin, between her shoulder blades, but it was so light she could’ve imagined it.

Lips, soft and warm.

A shuddering breath following, a ghost on her skin, sending a tremble through her body.

Sounds stuck in her throat as she forced them down. And just like that, the touch was gone, Genji sitting up straight with fingers moving once again, trembling ever so slightly.

Perhaps Angela shouldn’t have stopped those sounds, perhaps she should’ve let them pass her lips and wrap around him. If only his touch would’ve lingered. But the fact was that she didn’t, and yet she could hardly stop the smile spreading on her lips on the thought, impossible as it may be, that Genji might’ve wanted the same.

But this was fine, she decided, feeling herself melt underneath his touch, becoming as liquid as the water of her home. Because Genji stayed with her.

“We grew up with rules,” she spoke, breaking the silence, her voice feeling sluggish and humanly _drunk_ in her own ears. Fingers stilled momentarily on her back. “If we broke one of them, we would be banished from the colony. We knew them by heart.”

A soft sigh.

“One, never leave the cave alone, for it brings protection from humans and predators alike.”

A small shift.  

“Two, never stay out for too long and never stray too far away, for your safety is more important than food that evening.”

A pause, hesitating, memories brought back that Angela let come, pulling her deep under waters she couldn’t possibly drown in.

“Three, never swim into open water.”

Genji’s hands stilled on her back, a warm and firm presence that seemed to keep her grounded, focused. Kept her from slipping away, silently reassuring her that she was _safe_.

 “I broke them all. I forgot how to fear, my senses numb from the darkness of the cave, from the sense of security that had been my lullaby for so many years. And,” she took a deep breath. “Perhaps my parents had forgotten as well.”

Small circles were drawn on her skin with feather light touches. And she found herself craving that touch, because her eyes burned and heart ached, and Genji’s calming touch relaxed her in a way a healing song never could. She had a fleeting thought then, that perhaps the humans’ songs were never in their voices.

“I chased after a fish and found myself out in the open ocean, lost with no way back. And in that sense of grave danger, I hid with a school of fish, thought that they could protect me from the predators of the ocean.” A sigh, her cheek pressing against wood, arms stretched out above her head. “Perhaps they could have. But humans are no children of the Mother, even though they are as restless and as ruthless as her.”

There was a pause in the air, a hesitation from both sides, as Angela knew not how to continue, and Genji whispered against her skin, “I do not know how to respond. My words are meaningless compared to the pain you’ve been through, so please tell me how I may console you.”

And Angela shifted, a smile spreading on her lips as she looked back to Genji, meeting his gaze full of hurt and sorrow on her behalf. Suffering with her.

“Genji,” she spoke, voice warm of comfort and love. “Please do that thing again, with your lips.”

His familiar laughter filled the air before it pressed against her skin, lips following the patterns he had created with his fingers. Following and creating new ones. This time, she didn’t hold back the sounds, let them roll off her tongue so sweetly and encouraging. And Genji grew bolder, lips parting and she could feel the wetness of his mouth as he tested his boundaries, biting softly and sucking on spots that stole her breath and stole sounds from her lips she hadn’t known she could make.

And no, humans had no songs of their own, but they didn’t need to.

For they could make others sing.

 

*

 

The servants climbed the stairs to her tank, carrying the large bucket of fish between them. They seemed to struggle a bit, as it was live fish and in Angela’s experience, live fish were never the ones to cooperate.

And not feeling nervous at all, with skin still warm and tingling of kisses, Angela breached the surface. The servants jumped back, bucket of fish about to drop, but the mermaid gave them a gentle smile, keeping a reassuring distance.

“I would like to thank you,” she spoke, watched as the servants’ eyes grew wide, blinking and staring and unable to understand what was going on. “For bringing me fish every day, even though I know it is a struggle.”

A quick shared glance, slow nodding and more staring, a whispered “of course” with a shaky voice. And Angela smiled wider, warmer.

The fish were let down into the tank, swimming away as fast as they could, and Angela was about to go after them, hunting for breakfast, when one of the servants spoke up.

“Is there anything you wish for?”

And Angela could think of a million things, but none could be fulfilled by the kind humans in front of her. So instead she came up with a new wish, a new thought, making herself _dare_ to ask.

“Well,” she hummed, finger tapping her chin. “I do quite like salmon.”

 

*

 

The next morning, Genji ate his breakfast at her side when the servants arrived. They greeted her first, with shy smiles and warmth in their eyes, and then greeted Genji with the regular respect, before they let down three large salmons into her tank.

As they retreated back, Angela waving her goodbyes, Genji raised an eyebrow, looking at her with amusement. Waiting for an explanation he knew he would receive, for Angela turned her smile to him, brushing away breadcrumbs from his cheek.

“I believe I have made some new friends.”

 

*

 

The servants, Angel found out, were quite chatty once they had been invited to chat. They told her rumors from the castle and the world outside, of politics and human business Angela never understood but smiled along with nonetheless. And they told her stories and gossip of Genji, from a time before, when it wasn’t unusual for him to bring home women and men to share a bed with, or not come home at all for days, of a life he had lived outside of the castle and his duties.

And they would tell her gossip from within the castle as well, things Genji forgot to tell her or never knew about, and the servants’ stories always made her laugh. Angela would tell them things in return, sometimes simple stories from her home, sometimes about the times Genji fell asleep while reading for her.

They were eager to hear her stories, and eager to help in any way they could. So when Angela asked the innocent question of “what does kissing mean to humans?” she had not expected the flushed cheeks and avoiding glances.

But nonetheless, they answered.

“Kissing is an act of intimacy.”

“Practiced with a dear or loved one.”

A pause, a nervous shift, voice lowered as they asked something forbidden. “Has our young master _kissed_ you?”

Head tilting slightly to the side, Angela answered. “He has kissed my skin, my hand and my back, always following a lingering touch of his fingers.” A pause, and Angela smiled at the wide eyes and darker cheeks. “But as it would seem, humans do not share the same acts of intimacy as we do.”

The servants nodded, one of them lost in thought as they picked up their bucket to leave for the day, and just as they were about to leave, the servant turned around and locked eyes with Angela, speaking with a surprising boldness.

“With all respect, but I believe you should return the favor.”

Their words lingered with her. Wondering if they meant that she should return the kisses that were so painfully human and so painfully sweet, or if they wanted her to show Genji a mermaid’s way of intimacy.

Perhaps it was both.

 

*

 

Taking her new friends’ words to heart, she gathered her courage for days before she felt bold enough to do what had been suggested. During those days, Hanzo came by more than once, his visits becoming more frequent as the brothers’ duties seemed to loosen, allowing them more time of their own and more time to study.

Genji was already sitting at the edge of the tank, solving problems and writing numbers. _Math_ , he had explained when Angela had asked, and had begun to teach her the basics when his brother showed up. Angela had hid out of habit.

So when Hanzo sat down next to Genji, starting to solve problems of his own, Angela caught Genji’s gaze and after an encouraging nod and gentle smile, Angela was once again by his side. After all, she had nothing to fear from Hanzo. And nothing to fear by Genji’s side.

At first, Hanzo seemed startled, staring at her like all humans did. But as Genji began speaking with her, explaining the math problem at hand, he seemed to relax, soon writing once again. Only casting occasional glances their way. Smiling slightly at their interaction, as if knowing something neither of them did.

As if he could see right through Genji’s gentle voice and warm gaze, fingers trailing over Angela’s skin every chance he got, the way she shivered at the light contact.

As if he could see something in his brother’s gaze and the way it never left Angela as the mermaid frowned at the problem, holding the pen in an unfamiliar way, chewing at the end.

As if he could see the way Angela smiled back up at Genji, her smile shining just as brightly as her scales, liquid gold even above the water, pride puffing up her cheeks as she solved a problem even Genji’d had trouble with.

Still, Hanzo seemed comfortable in their presence, speaking as rarely as he ever did, even striking a short conversation with Angela about the beauty of the cherry blossoms outside. And when it was time for them to leave, to practice other techniques that didn’t require a pencil but something much sharper, she said her goodbye and received two cheerfully greetings back.

 

*

 

When Genji arrived that evening, shooing away the ever so curious guards, he paused. Because Angela was already out in the open, fidgeting from side to side, tail flicking nervously.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, worry heavy in his voice, and he neared her with slow, careful steps. “Did something happen?”

Angela couldn’t get herself to answer, worried that if she said something else but what she had prepared to say, her voice might not carry it. And so, she shook her head instead, waiting until Genji had walked up the stairs before she broke the surface. He reached out for her, hesitant, and she placed her hand in his, trying to reassure him that everything was alright.

Then, she opened her mouth, and spoke.

“Swim with me.”

It took Genji by surprise, and he drew her closer by her hand, as if he wanted to hold her. And Angela wanted to be hold, more than anything she had ever wanted, but it needed to be in the right way. As was their tradition.

“Swim with me,” Angela repeated, softer, and there must’ve been something in her voice or in her eyes that erased all trace of hesitation. For Genji released her hand, standing straight as he began to strip off those many layers of fabric the humans insisted on wearing, leaving only something to cover him across his hips. Angela didn’t question it, knew that human anatomy was different, and although she was curious, she decided she could wait for later for that kind of lesson.

At the edge of the water, Genji hesitated again, sitting down on the ledge and dipping both his legs in the water. And Angela waited patiently for him, let him take his time, because at the moment it felt like they had all the time in the world.

“The day that I was stolen,” Angela began, and Genji looked down at her, froze in place as a gentle hand was placed on his knee. “I was to meet my future mate, as I was the oldest. And because of that, I was the one to hunt the dinner, to show my skills as a hunter.” A pause. “That is our tradition.”

A shaky breath, Angela looked up and met Genji’s warm and steady gaze. Gathered her courage once again.

“But we have other traditions as well, from a time before.”

She let her hand slip from his skin, as she slowly sank back into the water, keeping his gaze unbroken. And Genji followed, ungracious as any human could be, and with a deep breath, he joined her beneath the surface.

The lights were dimmed around them, but still enough to make Angela’s scales shimmer and glitter, to become liquid gold as she moved, caught the light and created reflections upon the glass around them. The colorful fish were restless at Genji’s presence, swimming around them, pushing them closer together.

“First,” Angela began, closing their distance, fingers gently touching his chest, nervous with warmth on her cheeks. “We would hold a great feast, for no one was to leave hungry.”

She let her fingers trail up over his chest, over broad shoulders. “Then, we would sing, our voices mixing together, more beautiful than anything you’d ever hear.”

Fingers trailing his jaw, gaze catching his, warm and dark, so much darker than usual and Angela blamed it on the light even though she could feel a strange content in her chest. She leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “And then, as long as the sun shone and as long as the moon was awake, _we would dance_.”

Bubbles surrounded them as Genji let out his breath in a rush and Angela pulled away just slightly, enough to watch his expression. He held up a finger, gently slipped out from her light embrace, to gasp for air at the surface. And when he returned to her side, excitement shone in his eyes.

It was widely known that humans could not breathe under water, that they could not speak once they had entered a mermaid’s domain. But Genji would not need to speak, and Angela would make sure that the breath he held would be stolen, as he had stolen hers so many times before.

She embraced him once again, one arm around his shoulders and with a hand resting on his chest, right above a beating heart. Fast and steady. And Genji embraced her in turn, in his own human way, with arms around her waist and pressing her flush against his body.

Angela wouldn’t want it any other way.

They moved slowly together, twirling in the water, having eyes only for the other. They weren’t gracious and perhaps made quite a sight to see, and they weren’t able to perform all those moves Angela had practiced with her siblings as a way to spend time. Because Genji wasn’t a merman, lacked the tail that could make him one with the water. But they improvised, rising together to the surface to allow Genji to breathe, dove down again amongst bubbles and fish.

And Angela would trail her fingers over Genji’s skin, leaving his chest to feel the sharpness of his cheekbones, the softness of his lips and they had to resurface once again, and she treaded her fingers through his hair that had begun to darken at the roots. And Genji followed her lead, tracing patterns upon her back as he let himself be spun and twirled around, trailed fingers down her tail to feel the smooth sharpness of her scales and watched with such an intensity that his eyes seemed to darken, as Angela shivered under his touch, arching into him, breath upon his skin.

Genji kissed her then, lips upon the crook of her neck, releasing a wave of bubbles that tickled her and lured forth a breathless laughter. And she clutched onto him, nails digging into his scalp, clawing at his shoulders, and for once she was glad that her nails had been ruined that day, still blunt and unable to do any harm to Genji.

For a moment, she forgot that he needed to breathe, that a human couldn’t survive without air, because his lips felt so sweet against her skin and she found herself greedy for more, _needing_ _more_ like a human needed air. And only when Genji’s lips stilled, a light tug in her embrace, was she reminded of the reality they lived in. The differences of their worlds.

As Genji gulped down air, Angela leaned in closer, kept them above water. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise after all to steal the breath of a man who could not survive without it, and so she gave him unlimited air as she pressed her lips against his throat.

It was light, barely there, and yet Genji’s breath hitched, a strange and breathless sound leaving his lips. And Angela trailed kisses upon his skin, over his Adam’s apple that bobbed as he tried to swallow, tried to remember how to _breathe_.

But Angela was cruel, had learned how to kiss from the best, and she figured that if it felt that good for her, then surely it must feel good for Genj as well. And so she kissed his chin and his jaw, felt one of his hands leave her waist to cup her face, to pull her closer, to urge her with words unsaid.

Angela knew little of kisses, knew only that they felt good and that they were important to humans. That you used your lips, an instrument of a song completely human. So it was curiosity more than anything that made her press her lips against his.

Her curiosity wasn’t left unanswered, never was in Genji’s presence, and he pressed back with a new kind of urgency.

Hungry.

 _Desperate_.

He stole her breath as much as she had stolen his, warm and wet, with brushes of tongue and teeth. And once again, he made her sing, shuddering and trembling with a voice laced with sweetness, and he joined in to her song with a sweetness of his own. His name slipped past her lips, a soft whisper of “ _Genji_ ”, and it was desperate and sweet and everything Genji could’ve asked for. And he kissed her deeper, lips parting to allow it, and Angela was lost with no idea what to do, trusted in Genji. Teeth pulling at her lower lip, releasing as she let out yet another sound, a tongue quick to follow and the world turned _hot_ with the taste of warmth and spices and saliva, and Angela wasn’t able to _breathe_ , to _think,_ and she never wanted it to stop.

And yet, it ended too quickly, and Angela wished that they could’ve continued for as long as time would allow them to, could gladly live the rest of her life with Genji’s lips upon hers. For she was left without breath, unable to regain it and unable to open her eyes, still in the water and clutching onto Genji as if her life depended on it. And Genji held her, kept her above water as if she could drown, forehead pressing against hers. Steadying her, an anchor to reattach her to reality.

“Is that also a part of your traditions?” He asked, breathless and still panting for air. And Angela laughed, lips brushing against his, tasting everything that was _Genji_.

“No,” she whispered, voice weak, lips a smile against his. “That was all human.”

 

*

 

Fate had been cruel to Angela, and had smiled upon her in other ways, all because of her own mistakes.

But sometimes, fate could be cruel because of the mistakes of others.

 

*

 

Genji’s intentions had been good, that day when he put up a camera to film Angela when he couldn’t see her, when he had saved the video to his tablet. He had meant to keep that video for himself, curious as he was, but as he and Angela grew closer and closer, that video was forgotten.

Perhaps it had been Genji’s mistake from the beginning, to take a video and forget about it. Perhaps it was the servant’s fault, who had entered his room under the orders of his father, who had seen the tablet and the video and did what any good servant would have done.

But Angela saw no point in putting the blame on anyone. For mistakes were mistakes, intentional or not, and it didn’t change the fact that Genji’s father had heard the rumors of the servants seeing her, of Genji visiting her. And now he stood before the tank, tall and intimidating, with the tablet in hand, playing the same video on repeat, of Angela twirling around in the water and trying to figure out exactly what the strange device had been.

Angela was hidden in her cave, wrapped in three layers of blankets and still shivering of fear. Because the master had been angry. And Angela feared for her own safety, and for the safety of Genji and of all the servants whom she had spoken to.

After all, the great megalodons were unpredictable.

“Make her show herself,” the master spoke, voice cutting through the air and water alike. A shiver ran down Angela’s spine. “I know she has showed herself to you. This video is proof enough.”

“Father,” Genji’s voice was calm, but nowhere near relaxed, emotions hidden carefully and well. “I cannot make the mermaid do what she wishes not to.”

There was a pause, the fish swimming into the cave and joining Angela, seeking comfort from a greater predator.

“Our _guests_ are on their way. I will not be ridiculed for not showcasing our great fortune.” Another pause, and when the master spoke again, his voice was lower, and Angela barely heard the hushed threat. “You _will_ make her show herself. It would be such a shame if you were to continue your training in Nepal.”

Angela peeked out from the cave, blankets falling off her shoulders. And she could see the master standing next to Genji, and although Genji stood tall and proud, he seemed to shrink in his father’s presence.

There was a tremble in his fingers.

Angela had never heard of Nepal before, knew only that it sounded like a place far away. Far, far away from her. And Genji had been her savior, her light in a darkness she hadn’t been able to see through, the anchor to keep her grounded and yet afloat.

He could not leave.

It was selfish of her, she knew, that she couldn’t possibly allow Genji to leave or she would perish. And although Genji caught her movement, caught her eye and shook his head with eyes wide of fear, Angela swam out in the open.

She had no reason to be afraid, for she was Mercy of the liquid gold and healing songs. She was a daughter of the Mother, and she had survived captivity when so many of her sisters had not.

If it was for Genji’s freedom, she would gladly sacrifice her own.

And if it was to keep Genji close for only a little while longer, to feel his touch again and his lips against hers, she would stare down the great megalodon.

She was a mermaid.

And she too was a predator.

She said nothing, kept still in the water, _waiting_. For that was what predators did best. And the great megalodon stiffened, vulnerable in the moment it took for him to look her over. He said nothing, showed nothing, only handed Genji the tablet and left in silence.

And Genji looked up at her, fingers pressing against the glass of the tank and Angela placed her own hand against his, smiling softly as if saying that everything would be alright. Genji gave her a weak smile in return, forehead resting against the tank for only a second.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice so silent she had to read them from his lips. “For I cannot hinder the pain that will follow.”

And Angela wanted to tell him that she’s survived a great deal of pain already, that she could fight the megalodon with teeth and song, that she could survive that too. But before she could speak, Genji had straightened up, hand by his side, something cold and distant in his eyes.

Everything that was expected of a son of the great master.

Angela didn’t recognize him.

 

*

 

The doors behind Genji opened, and the room was filled with chatter. And Genji turned his back to Angela. Immediately she understood the look in his eyes, for a great white shark entered by the side of the megalodon, followed by snappers and tiger sharks and anglerfish. And walking by his father’s side was Hanzo, and Angela felt slightly better in knowing that Genji wouldn’t be completely alone, out of reach for the mermaid but by the side of his brother.

And although Angela felt fear humming through her body, she kept still, looking at the school of predators. Watching. Challenging them with her eyes alone, to get closer, just a bit, to touch the water and fall for her teeth and song.

But they didn’t.

No, they kept their distance, dark eyes showing no awe or amazement at the sight of her. Only curiosity, a dull interest. For this was not the first time they had seen a mermaid.

They sat down at a low table the servants had carried forth, on mats that looked soft to the touch, and they shared a steaming hot drink while they talked. Hushed voices, not enough for Angela to hear. And soon, when no eyes were on her, she lost interest, stared to relax if only a little.

Sitting down on some rocks, she began braiding her hair as Genji had showed her, had taught to her with nimble fingers and gentle touches, with a breath that tickled her neck. Still, she kept a watchful eye on the _guests_ and the master, saw how Genji and Hanzo sat tense by his side. Saw how the great white’s smile widened in sharpness, danger written on his skin in ink and scars.

There were no worried glances thrown her way, as Genji sat straight and still, carried himself as he had been taught. He waited, she realized, just like her. For the right moment.

And as the business at the table drew to an end, the great white spoke up, looking over at Angela with glee in his eyes and sending shivers down her spine. And Genji looked over as well, the subject acceptable and finally allowing him to meet her eye, and she could see sorrow and warmth and an apology that she held close to her heart.

But it wasn’t Genji’s fault, for his father would have forced her out in the open even if he had refused, even if he had been forced to travel to Nepal. And it wasn’t Genji’s fault that the great white started to speak, loud enough for Angela to hear, boasting with smugness in his voice, pride lacing his words.

“We have a mermaid of our own. A sweet thing with pink scales. Caught just outside Korea when she was only a child.” There was a pause, a sip of tea. “They are easier to keep alive then.”

And the megalodon smiled back, just as sharp and dangerous. “So I’ve heard. As you can see, our mermaid has survived quite well, _thriving_ in our great home. Just watch, how comfortable she is in our presence.”

There was a longer pause, its edges heavy with tension. Genji did not speak, and Angela suspected he did not have the right to, for he had said not a single word since they had sat down, had made not a sound as insults covered in smiles had been whispered amongst them. But Angela forgave him, knew that she did not have words either.

“I must say, her tail is quite enchanting. Our mermaid’s scales are dull and boring. May I ask what secrets you hold, to make it shine the way it does?”

And now, when the great master failed to answer for he did not know the correct words, he turned to his youngest son. “Genji has spent a lot of time with her. He will be able to tell.”

As everyone’s eyes turned to him, Genji seemed unfazed. He kept his lips locked, took a sip of his tea, buying time as he swallowed down a fear for the guest and a fear for his father.

“I have done no remarkable thing,” he started, speaking slowly, carefully. “Her shine is her own.”

“And her song then?” The great white insisted, determined to know the secrets of the mermaid, whose tail shone like liquid gold.

Genji answered truthfully. “That, I do not know. The only song she has sung for me was to lull me to sleep.”

The school of predators laughed, and Genji smiled politely, for apparently it was such a ridiculous thing, to be slept by a mermaid in captivity. And thus, the subject shifted again, lasted until their cups had been emptied and deals settled.

Angela sat still, brushing through her hair, redoing the braid over and over to settle her restless fingers.

And she watched, every movement and every smile, until the company had left through large doors. Genji was the one to close those doors, a last glance back at her, a short bow of his head.

Angela bowed back before disappearing into her cave.

 

*

 

Genji did not return until hours later, when the guests had left the castle. The lights had already begun to dim, and Angela laid curled up in the nest Genji had built months before. She heard the sound of his bare feet upon wood, silent but unmistakably there, and sometimes Angela wondered if Genji did some things a bit louder, and other things a bit quieter, just for her.

At first, he did not speak, simply laid down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. His lips ghosting over her shoulder. And Angela leaned back, relaxing under his touch, eyes falling closed. Only then, when Angela’s breathing was even and warm, when she snuggled closer to him, turning around to press her nose to the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent, only then did he speak. With a voice so soft it alone melted her heart, he whispered his secrets upon her skin.

“I will have to leave for a while, but I will not be gone for long.”

Angela sighed against his skin, fluttering kisses over his collarbones. “Tell her that there is a colony of koi not too far from here. They will help her home.”

Genji stayed for a while longer, kissing her skin and making her sing once more, but his duties soon called. And as he left her, determination flared in his eyes, and he carried himself a certain way that could make a great white shiver and hide with just a glance.

For Genji was the son of a megalodon, but he was no ancient shark or with a mouth full of teeth, nor did he carry poison on his skin amongst luminescent lights.

No, he was just like Angela.

He just walked on two legs instead.

 

*

 

New rumors spread in Genji’s absence.

“A shadow in the night.”

“Leaving no trail of death in its wake, no blood and no bone.”

“Stealing the greatest fortune of them all.”

Angela had a feast that night, in the honor of the child who had survived for so long, and she hoped that the little mermaid would find her family once again.

 

*

 

Nothing really changed between them, as Genji’s palms grew rougher, his eyes shining brighter whenever he laid eyes upon his mermaid. For Angela welcomed him with open arms when he returned, whispering endearments in both languages Genji knew by heart and ones that had never been spoken above water before.

They still talked, shared stories, even though it became harder to think of any untold ones.

They still read together, one page each, even though they sometimes forgot words as lips muffled any sound.

They still stayed together, every night and every free moment during the day, even though Genji seemed more tired than usual, dozing off by Angela’s side and falling asleep with his head in her lap as she hummed lullabies to him.

But something had changed for Genji, as he stood with sword in hand, blood that was not his own coating his clothes and skin. As he carried mermaid after mermaid to open ocean. As he infiltrated the black market, leaving only a trail of blood and salt water. As he intercepted fishing boats and cut their lines and nets, as he stole every chance for them to ever catch a mermaid again.

And something had changed greatly for Genji, as mermaid upon mermaid thanked him in languages he had started to understand. In the rare cases where they spoke his tongue, when they asked him why and _why_ and _why he would ever save them_ , he smiled at them with blood on his cheeks and life in his eyes.

“My Mercy sent me.”

The mermaids seemed to understand then, thanked him once more. And soon songs spread in the ocean, about a human giving freedom back to those who had been captured, about a Mercy who had turned the black heart of a human into gold, had melted it with kindness without song. About the human and the mermaid who loved each other in more ways than there were songs to tell the tale.

 

 

*

 

“ _My Mercy sent me_.”

And the name of the Mercy spread.

“ _My Mercy sent me_.”

And the humans began to fear the Mercy’s sharp blade.

“ _My Mercy sent me_.”

And Genji faltered in his steps, heart clenching, as he realized that he had released so many mermaids, given them their freedom back. But his Mercy was still locked up in a castle with guards around her tank, with a cage trapping her in place.

She held no freedom at all.

 

*

 

It was known amongst the merpeople, that the great megalodons once roamed the ocean. They lived in the darkest of depths, where mermaids now resided, the ones with sharp teeth too many for a mouth, with poison in their claws and tails, with milky-white and unseeing eyes.

And it was known that megalodons had never died out, like the humans believed.

But humans believed in a lot of things, even when they had not been in the great depths themselves, when they had not seen the jaws of a monster.

Angela supposed that the humans were halfway right. After all, no megalodon could live forever. They were all bound to one day fall, either by a predator greater than them or by time itself.

And as it would seem, with running servants and tears wetting cheeks, that the great megalodon of the Shimada had fought his last battle.

 

*

 

Angela felt a pang of regret that she hadn’t been the one to sing his soul to the afterlife.

 

*

 

Genji mourned his own way, once he heard the news on his return. There were no tears nor anger. Simply a silent acceptance that life was as it was, and that despite everything, he himself was still alive and well.

Life would continue.

Still, he stayed longer at Angela’s side, breathing into her shoulder and clutching onto her as if she was the only one keeping him firm upon the ground. As if she now was his anchor, as he had been hers. And she petted his hair, dark with only the tips dipped in a fading green, drew her fingers through it and made small braids that never stayed when he rose again.

Angela mourned with him, never once losing the shine of her tail, but mourning nonetheless.

And when the day came, when Hanzo was the one named the new master of the clan, when the castle celebrated in fine food and wine, Angela stayed out in the open. It was never for the sake of the temporary guests, who stared at her with wide eyes full of wonder and awe and asking how the shadow had not tried to release her yet. Her presence was simply a way to stay close to Genji, even though they could impossibly touch nor speak in a room full of humans. But it calmed him, she had learned so easily, to have her near.

It made the day and the night a bit easier for him.

And during the night, when the room was empty of everyone but them, Angela sung him a new song. One of gold and light, of warmth and of love. A song of healing.

Because some wounds never appeared on skin.

And yet somehow, those were the most dangerous of them all.

 

*

 

“I believe you know why we are gathered here,” Hanzo spoke, the small room swallowing his words. Unknown faces around him, sitting at a table and waiting for him to speak, all wearing the symbols of different clans and families.

“A great fortune has been stolen, many times over. Mermaids caged in tanks with thick glass, enough to withstand bullets. And yet, they have been carried away, sometimes without causalities.” A pause, lowered heads. “Sometimes with too many.”

Another pause and Hanzo stood straighter, the edge of his tattoo visible where his sleeve ended, still fresh and aching.

“No one has seen this _shadow_ and lived to tell the tale, nor has it been captured on any security camera. However,” he turned to the men and women in the room, ice in his gaze, a determination so similar to Genji’s, and yet so different. “With unity we shall find the _shadow_. And we shall bring it to its knees.”

The people nodded, chimed in with agreement, anger flaring in their veins for many of them had lost their precious mermaids, and some would come to lose theirs. And one of them would go home from the meeting and find their tank empty.

“If you were to find this thief,” Hanzo spoke again, silencing the room so easily, radiating a power he had inherited just a day before. “Do not hesitate to kill.”

 

*

 

When Genji was away, for days and for weeks, Angela missed him. She never denied it, but it made the sorrow even sweeter, and their reunion even calmer as she tried to lace words onto his skin, kissing them in place as if to seal them there. Words to wish him luck in his hunts, and words wishing for a safe return.

And Genji would hold her close, laugh until his whole being shook, at the way her lips and fingers tickled him in their travels. Angela smiled with him, letting him take a light revenge, finding her own ticklish spots and spots that made her gasp and spots that made her sigh in pleasure.

She found herself thinking that she was happy. And discovered that it had been weeks, even months, since she had last thought of her own family.

“Something is on your mind,” Genji whispered, cheek against her hair as she was trapped in his embrace and unwilling to flee. “You are quiet today.”

A glance back, head resting on his shoulder, a shift, and his cheek pressed against the top of her head.

“I was thinking of my family. They have not crossed my thoughts for a very long time.” A pause, a hesitation. “It felt… _strange_. I can barely remember the voice of my mother, and yet I have listened to her song for my whole life. I can still remember the faces of my siblings, but I wonder for how long. And I’ve found a fear that I too, will only become a name whispered and then forgotten.”

Genji was quiet for a long time, for Angela did not demand an answer to her words. Perhaps, there was no answer satisfying enough for her to hear.

And when Genji took word, his voice was as soft as a whisper, fingers still on her skin.

“If you could have your freedom, would you take it?”

Angela answered without hesitation, that “yes, I would”, and yet when Genji stood up and slipped from her arms, she felt cold and lonely. He gave her a reassuring smile, so full of warmth and love that Angela’s heart got stuck in her throat.

“I will be back soon, that I promise you.”

And when she slipped back into the water, staring at his retreating back, she pressed her hand against the cool, smooth glass. Her words lost on her lips.

She would gladly take her freedom if she could. But she never wanted it to be on the cost of parting with him.

 

*

 

Genji was gone longer this time. He did not return after a week, nor the week after that.

Angela began to grow restless.

“He is away on duties,” one of her friends reassured her, reaching forward with hesitation to lay a warm hand on her shoulder. And Angela leaned into the touch, feeling like she was about to starve without contact. “Or, he is neglecting them.”

“Either way,” her second friend spoke up, sitting down at the edge of the water, her simple servant clothes wetting at the hem. “It was not unusual for him to be gone for long times, before.”

“Before?”

And the servants smiled in union. “Before you.”

“He has changed greatly from your presence. You have brought peace to his restless soul.” A soft pat on her shoulder before the hand was withdrawn. “Although he still walks on master’s nerves, he does so with greater confidence now.”

The other servant nodded. “He has become his own.”

They left her with those words, meant to be reassuring and warm, and yet Angela felt something chew inside of her. Dangerous and sharp and she wanted it gone. A dark, suspecting thought that _something_ was going on.

 _Something_ behind the scene of the great room with a tank, filled with water and fish and a mermaid.

 

*

 

Hanzo, the new master of the family with a blue dragon tattoo covering his left arm, visited her once in Genji’s absence.

And just like something had changed in Genji, something seemed to have changed in Hanzo as well. For he said not a word, and there were not a trace left of a soft smile that he had worn in conversation before.

He simply looked at her, gaze piercing and cold. Calculating.

Angela never knew Hanzo as well as she knew Genji, and still she didn’t recognize the man before her. He _reeked_ of danger, like a rotten fish pushed around that everyone refused to eat, as if a great weight was on his shoulders and it took all of his will just to keep standing.

She didn’t try to speak with him, for she had made many mistakes before. And she had learned. So she waited, met his gaze with a challenge.

His gaze flickered.

“Due to the great amount of mermaids being released by an unknown thief, security will be doubled.”

With that, he left.

 

*

 

Did you not know that an unhappy mermaid loses her shine?

They can easily die from sorrow and loneliness.

 

*

 

She was suffocating.

Her scales no longer shimmered like liquid gold, had started to dull in color, barely able to reflect any light. She found it harder and harder to smile, forcing herself to continue taking breath after breath, to just hold on a little longer. Genji would return.

And still her heart clenched and it was bleeding and it hurt, _oh how it hurt_.

She wondered how long it would take for it to falter and break, to shatter. And oh the irony. To have survived in captivity for so long, only to fade away into nothing and die from a broken heart.

She began to hide from her friends, and when she did show herself they asked her about her scales, about the dull yellow so different from the shining gold. And Angela would mask her sorrow and pain behind a smile and laughter, telling stories and jokes that made the servants smile too. Soon, they had forgotten all about the pain they had seen painted in her eyes.

During the night, she began to sing, only to find that she could not. Her voice broken and shattered, unable to pronounce words unknown to man. And as her eyes hurt and her heart hurt even worse, she curled into herself in her cave, praying to her Mother to _please, let Genji return_.

 _Please_.

 

*

 

The doors slammed open, the sound startling Angela from a restless sleep. She could hear steps, familiar and sounding far away, and her movements were sluggish as she with the grace of a human tumbled out of her cave.

And locked eyes with Genji.

His name fell from her lips, a whisper and broken with her voice. And he took a step closer to her, a tremble in his fingers, her pain mirrored in his warm eyes.

“ _Genji_ ,” she whispered, found strength for every syllable. He had returned, and he was _there_ and she could _breathe_ again. “Genji, Genji, _Genji_ -“

And then she saw.

Red. Fresh and warm and wet, coating his clothes and left cheek. A sharp sword in his hand, dripping of red liquid.

He saw the fear in her eyes, for he pressed a bloody hand against the glass, leaving a red imprint. “Not mine.”

His voice was breathless from a hunt, chest rising and falling with every rushed breath and Angela didn’t like this, _didn’t like this at all_ and she had _known_ , had known so very well that _something_ had been going on outside the room.

Genji’s attention shifted quickly to something behind him, and when he looked back at Angela again, there was something new in his eyes. Panic? Desperation? Angela could not say, for he quickly ran up the stairs, hand stretched out for her to take. Her movements were still slow and sluggish; it hurt to flick her tail and bring her upwards when it would be so much easier to just let go and sink to the bottom.

“We must leave,” he whispered as she placed her hand in his, cold against warmth, and he pulled her up to the platform of wood that they had spent so many hours on. Reading and talking and singing together.

“Why? What’s happening?” Angela forced the words past her lips, pressing closer to Genji’s warmth that seemed to heal her soul. “Genji?”

“It’s alright, everything will be alright,” he whispered back, pressing her even closer to his chest, and then she could feel air. And it was just as strange each time, the weightlessness of air and the feeling that you were falling and falling, and she clutched closer to Genji with arms around his shoulders as he carried her.

And although she felt like falling in the air, she felt safer in Genji’s arms than she had ever felt in the tank of water.

She buried her nose and lips in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Could feel warmth return to her tail, her heart no longer aching so terribly. And she whispered against his skin, words in her language and his own, “I missed you.”

Genji hugged her closer, stepping over unconscious guards, some drowning in their own blood. Angela never saw, eyes closed shut, for in her world there was only _Genji_.

Lips pressed against the crown of her head, soft but unmistakably there.

“I will bring you home.”

 

*

 

A shirt was forced onto her, tight and restricting, and Angela only complied when Genji had begged her that “please, Angela, you must pass for a human, if only for a minute.” They wrapped her tail in heavy blankets, hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, and it didn’t take any time at all and yet Genji’s movement became more and more rushed.

Genji picked her up in his arms again, blood already drying on his clothes, and they exited the small storage room in silence. Angela had never seen that part of the castle, had never seen much of the castle at all, and the parts she had seen were not the same.

There were no pink flowers blossoming in the soft breeze of spring. The courtyard was dark of the night, the trees’ naked branches seeming to reach out for them like the arms of the deceased. Genji seemed unaffected, and Angela stilled her racing heart, placed a hand over Genji’s chest just to feel the steady beat of his.

They didn’t exit the castle the same way as when she had been brought there, for Genji headed for the front gates, large out of wood and with the family’s sigil carved into it.

It was surprisingly easy, to slip out from the gates that stood slightly ajar. No guard called after them, no weapons were aimed for their heads, and no one stopped them. And to Angela, it almost felt too easy, for fate had never been this kind to her before.

“I have prepared a car,” Genji said, voice hushed in the stillness of the night. “With the help of some friends.”

As they arrived to the car, Angela shone up in a smile. Because at the strange metal beast, similar to the one she had been swallowed by when she had been brought to the castle, were her friends. The servants were fidgety, nervous with all right to be, and when they saw Genji and Angela approaching they visibly relaxed. Smiled in return and gave Genji a key.

Then they turned to Angela.

“It was a pleasure to know you.”

“I wish you good luck and good fortune; may you reach the ocean and your family safely.”

“We shall remember you; your name and spirit shall not be forgotten.”

Angela said her rushed goodbyes as there were no time to thank them properly, less they be captured. And as Genji gently placed her in the backseat of the car, a strange sound cut through the air.

 _Dong_.

Genji stilled, the servants’ eyes wide with fear.

“The bell,” they whispered, looking amongst each other, fidgeting and shifting with desire to run and hide. “They must’ve realized by now.”

“We need to hurry,” Genji said as he too got in the car. And all Angela could do was hold on to the seat in front of her, nausea welling up in her stomach at the strange movement, gulping down air to keep her fear in check.

Genji cast worried glances to her, through the small mirror Angela would’ve laughed at in any other situation. Then his gaze shifted to something behind Angela and behind the car. A curse left him through gritted teeth and the car moved faster until the metal beast seemed to deny the law of gravity, cutting through the air.

It was a race against time, Angela knew, disoriented and nauseous. For Hanzo could not afford to lose his mermaid, so precious and worth a fortune, as the new master of the family. And desperation had always seemed to be quite the fuel for humans.

But Genji was human too, and he seemed more desperate than most, as he sped up even more, taking them down winding roads and past houses of all sizes and shapes, sometimes losing the black cars that followed them, and sometimes bringing them close enough to see the drivers.

And as the road became flat, the ocean became visible. Glimmering and dark in the moonlight, but there nonetheless. It always seemed so still and calm in its restlessness.

Angela pulled herself up straighter, tail twitching at the sight, her heart swelling.

 _Home_.

“I’ve contacted the koi colony,” Genji said. “It took time, but they had heard of me and they had heard of you. They will be waiting for you.”

And time moved faster after that, for in the next moment, Genji stopped the car in the middle of a beach with rocks and sand. Angela met him halfway as he opened the door to get her, holding onto her and breathing into her neck. And Angela pressed closer to him, eyes on the ocean and wishing with all her heart that she could take him with her. She wanted to show him her home and all the wonders of the Mother.

But she couldn’t.

Not because Genji was human and she was a mermaid, but because he whispered “please forgive me” with tears in his voice, breath ghosting over her skin.

And then there was air. Thrown up in nothingness and away from Genji as black cars pulled up and men and women exited, weapons in hand. Hanzo leading them.

Before Angela hit the surface of the ocean, before she was pulled under in such familiar saltiness that yet felt strange on her tongue, she saw Genji turning around, facing his brother.

 

*

 

The blankets were too heavy for the ocean, slipping from her tail that had regained some of its shine, perhaps not glimmering, but still golden. She just as quickly discarded the restricting shirt, watching as the fabric sunk deeper and deeper.

And then she began to swim.

Her heart was pounding, deafening in her ears. Her body screaming of joy as she was able to swim and _swim_ and _swim_ , her muscles remembering what it felt like to be _free_. She would find the koi colony, and she could swim home, cross oceans and seas, and she could meet her family and her colony once again. And she could tell them all of the tales she had heard, the human ones and the ones she had experienced. And she could-

She paused, coming to a stop.

A feeling deep in her gut, twisting and turning worse than nausea. Familiar in its unfamiliar way.

Something was very, _very wrong_.

 _Genji_.

She had her freedom, but what about Genji? What about the guards with weapons pointed at his head, what about his brother ready to kill, what about _Genji_?

With heart beating faster than before, with breath stuck in her throat and she felt like she was about to burst, she swam back. Dread filled her; the dread of being too late, the dread of making yet another mistake.

She needed Genji, just as much as he needed her. Thus, there was no room for mistakes.

She swam faster than she had swum in her entire life, desperation in her veins, whispering to her Mother to _please, don’t let it be too late_. And she cut through the surface with a gasp, disoriented for only a second before she could see clearly amongst the seafoam.

“ _Genji!_ ”

The scream left her, but never reached her ears. Deaf to the world around her, a ringing noise insistent, ringing and _ringing_.

Genji didn’t answer.

He laid still on the rocky beach mixed with sand, with blood seeping out from fresh wounds, so deep there was no stopping it. Eyes half-closed, unseeing. Chest barely rising and falling with every breath, a countdown soon set to zero.

Fate was rarely kind to Angela.

His name left her lips again and again, more desperate for every time, as she crawled up on the beach, pushing herself closer to him until she could lay her trembling hands on his chest. Could feel that yes, he was still breathing, _but for how much longer_. And she knew she couldn’t lose him. She owed him too much.

And she loved him too much.

Ahead of them, Hanzo paused, sword in hand and still dripping of Genji’s blood. He turned at the sound of Angela’s desperate pleas, watched as she clutched onto him, blood still pouring and smearing upon skin, and yet the mermaid only cared for his brother’s life.

She whispered into his skin, telling him lies and truths.

“Everything will be alright, I’ve got you. _I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go_ ,” she promised, forehead pressing against his.

“Please just wake up, you can’t leave me now, Genji. I love you, so _please_ ,” she pleaded with failing voice as Genji’s breath became more ragged, wheezing whenever he breathed in, still clutching onto that thin string of life that was slipping from his fingers.

“You have saved so many of my sisters. _You saved me_ ,” she pressed her words and lips against his, fluttering and brief, feeling the soft sigh that left Genji. Felt when he never took another breath.

“And who would I be if I couldn’t do the same for you?”

 

*

 

There are stories of merpeople turning into seafoam and dragons. There are stories of mermaids selling their voices for legs. Because a mermaid’s song is the most beautiful thing she has, and the most powerful weapon she possess. For she sings about bending reality and healing wounds, about long lost tales in languages long forgotten to man, of legends and truths.

For there is magic in their songs.

 

*

 

It started in silence. Tones only audible underneath raging waves, amongst fish and her kin in her Mother’s domain.

And then it built, words of an ancient language strung together, a melody that was unlike anything a human would ever hear. For she sung of healing, of mending bones and broken hearts, of gold and of love, of life that had been stolen so cruelly. Life that she demanded back.

She had only sung it a handful of times in her life, but she knew the words by heart, as did any Mercy of the ocean. For it was their own song, unique to liquid gold and blue eyes.

And she sung and sung, words swirling in the air, twirling and dancing, stitching together the wounds inflicted, brought back warmth to cold cheeks. But the song alone could not bring back the life in his eyes.

Angela had known that her song wouldn’t be enough. It was made of magic, true, but healing and bringing someone back to life were two different things.

She knew. But it was never a mistake.

Reaching the end of the song, her voice lowered, words only meant for Genji even though he couldn’t hear her. But he never had to, for she pressed the words into his skin, lips against his as she breathed the song into him. And it filled him and _filled him_ to the brim of song and magic and love and _life_.

As she pulled back, only slightly, she could feel his shuddering breath ghost over her skin.

But they did not have a lot of time.

For skin began turning into scales, green and shimmering like emerald. Ripping fabric and mending bones and flesh together.

It had been the only way to save him.

And Hanzo was stunned to silence, watching with wide eyes and parted lips, how his slain brother was rescued from death, brought back to life and turned into something that was never human to begin with. And as a tail glimmered to life, Angela caught his gaze and held it. Unforgiving and cold, more dangerous than any predator Hanzo had ever faced. _Daring_ him to steal Genji’s life once more.

And he watched, sword slipping from his hand and would remain untouched for decades, how Angela hugged Genji close. New revelations and thoughts would come to haunt him for years, he knew, and welcomed them for the sins he had done and the sins we would do.

He bowed to Angela and Genji, to the ocean itself. For some sins could never be forgiven, only regretted. And Angela’s gaze never wavered from him, ready to protect Genji’s life with her own.

A large wave rose, swallowed the pair with seafoam and not a trace, washing away blood and fabric alike. As if they had never existed on land at all.

The Mother welcomed her children home.

 

*

 

There was a sanctuary at Midway Atoll, created by humans in the Pacific Ocean. There were rumors in the colony that lived there, with mixed tails of all colors from gold and green to blue and pink, that the sanctuary had once been used by humans in a war so great even the merpeople had songs telling its story.

And in that sanctuary, freedom was the taste of sun upon their skin through crystal clear water, the taste of colorful fish and occasional feasts, the taste of dancing and singing with voices mixing together and chilling to the bones and fluttering in their chests. There were no caves nor tunnels to get lost in, no darkness to steal their sanity, and no fishermen with nets and dangerous smiles to steal them from their home.

They lived in peace, together in liquid gold and emerald green, with songs of healing and of dragons, with whispered secrets upon skin and tails wrapping around each other; mermaid and human, yet not.

For the Mother was a restless one, and she would let you know if you were not welcome. Her mercy was only for her children. And Genji was now her child, just like Angela and the other merpeople of their colony.

And rumors were whispered, songs sung across oceans and seas and even reaching those still trapped in thick glass and in water that tasted too sweet. Songs about a Mercy with a golden tail, who fell in love with a human and saved his life. Songs of a human who set stolen sisters free, who returned to the ocean himself, for he had only been a merman in disguise. Songs of a mermaid and a merman, with names echoing through eternity, who would answer any call of their kin.

For the messages were fewer and further between. Their names never forgotten.

 


End file.
